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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382258">Only a Paper Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmarilz1701/pseuds/silmarilz1701'>silmarilz1701</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Tale of Two Heritages [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Band of Brothers (TV 2001)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1940s, And this is the first step towards that, F/M, Klixonverse, Lots of Reunions, Panic Attacks, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Recovery, They deserve long and happy lives in peace, it was a duology but then everyone wanted post war so now its a duology plus a small third sequel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 06:53:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>50,655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmarilz1701/pseuds/silmarilz1701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One year since Bastogne. One year since Alice lost half of everyone she'd come to care about in Easy. One year since she'd battled against pneumonia as much as she'd battled against the Germans. Only now, she was home.</p><p>No foxholes, no artillery barrages, no tree bursts. Just Alice and Nix and the mansion they'd been given by his mother. But they're both getting restless. Harry and Kitty's wedding is on the horizon, and with that, an excuse to travel.</p><p>But even with no foxholes, no artillery barrages, and no tree bursts keeping them up at night, they hadn't come home unscathed. No one had. Everyone who went to war was a victim.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kitty Grogan/Harry Welsh, Lewis Nixon/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Tale of Two Heritages [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Third story in a series of Band of Brothers OC fanfics. Please read the first two to understand this one! This will not be nearly as long as A Soldier of No Importance and Humanity of the Broken, at least, that's not my intention. It'll stretch the first several years after the war. Anything after that will feature in one-shots.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>December 24th, 1945</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Nixon, New Jersey, United States</em>
</p><p>Alice woke, gasping. Her heart pounded against her ribcage so hard she feared it would explode. To her horror, when her eyes opened, there was only darkness. The cold wrapped around her. Flashes of pain, of blood and snow invaded her thoughts. Without thinking, Alice moved back the covers and swung her legs off the bed.</p><p>She could’ve sworn her bare feet hit snow. For a moment, dizzy confusion clouded her mind. Where was she? Her heart continued to pound. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe. It was pneumonia. It had to be pneumonia. Her dream of domesticity had been just that, a dream. She still sat in a foxhole in Bastogne. Everything had been lies.</p><p>Her eyes adjusted. Just as she thought she’d never breathe again, the realization that the white under her hands wasn’t a blanket of snow, but an actual blanket, calmed her down. The pounding in her chest no longer resembled the purr of a machine gun, but a natural heartbeat. Alice remembered. </p><p>She remembered going through the motions. Nix had come home from work in a better mood than usual; Dick’s employment had been approved. They’d shared a glass or two of wine in front of the fire. She’d expressed how restless she’d begun to feel, even with pursuing her art.</p><p>Then they’d gone to bed. She was in a bedroom, not a foxhole. Alice looked over her shoulder. Nix slept, undisturbed. His brown hair, though much neater than it had become in the war, still had pieces out of place. Alice tried to smile. But she couldn’t. She needed a drink.</p><p>Pushing her bare feet into some slippers and pulling on a robe, Alice crept out of the master bedroom and went downstairs. She’d let her hair grow out longer than it had been in the war, and though some days she missed the ease of shoulder-length, in the cold of December, it kept her warm. Warmth eluded her that night, though.</p><p>Or, morning. As she looked at the grandfather clock in the foyer, Alice frowned to see it was only two in the morning. She’d only gone to sleep four hours ago. No wonder Nix hadn’t woken up even at her startled movements. He deserved sleep.</p><p>Even though she’d been living in the Nixon estate for well over a month, it felt like walking through a haunted mansion at night. The week she’d spent in New Jersey before the war haunted her like some sort of ghost. Who she’d been then, who he’d been then, felt like a distant memory.</p><p>Being in the States, it felt good. It felt right. She didn’t doubt her decision to leave Europe behind at least for the foreseeable future. New Jersey, though haunted, wasn’t nearly as haunted as back there.</p><p>Alice moved into the kitchen, turning on a couple of lamps. After spending three years living with a company of men, she sometimes found the large Nixon household dauntingly quiet. Blanche had returned to San Francisco a few weeks ago, and as much as she adored having Nix all to herself, it felt strange.</p><p>A few bottles of wine sat on the counter. Alice grabbed one, Cabernet Sauvignon, and poured herself a tall glass. How many nights had she woken up, convinced the war’s end to be but a figment of her dreams? Too many. And she knew the same was true for Nix. Alice downed a large drink</p><p>A cough ripped through her chest. Panic seized her again. Her free hand flew to her chest, just below her throat. Alice grabbed at her skin. She coughed again. The sobs came next. Placing the wine glass on the counter, she slapped her other hand across her mouth in a desperate, feeble attempt to stifle the cries. </p><p>Crying made the breathing worse. The harder each breath, the more Alice panicked. It was happening again. It was all happening again. </p><p>Alice squeezed her eyes shut. She continued to cover her mouth as if she could stuff the sobs back down with a tight grip. Her dizziness increased. No matter how much she screamed in her mind that it wasn’t true, that she wasn’t going to die, it took several minutes of quiet sobs in the center of the dimly lit kitchen for her to regain some semblance of control.</p><p>Finally able to do more than stand and clutch herself, Alice grabbed her wine again. The taste of salty tears mixed with the alcohol on her lips. Another drink, and she knew she needed to put it down. She and Nix had both been working on reducing their alcohol and cigarette use. </p><p>Instead of pouring another glass of wine, Alice moved back across the house to the living room. She flipped on another lamp. With a massive quilt around her body, she settled into a corner of the couch. Her body still trembled. She cursed herself. After a year of battle, a year of bullets and bombs, the memories that scared her the most were those of Bastogne.</p><p>When she closed her eyes, she found herself alone again. Alone in a foxhole, a dark tarp blocking out the dark treetops above. Frozen ground, half mud half ice, chilled her to the bone. With hair so filthy she’d needed to wash it three times, she’d spent her nights fearing artillery and, above all, the unknown of the morning. </p><p>Even now horrible dread that she’d find blood and mucus on her sleeve when she coughed filled her entire body. Not just her mind, but her heart. At the time, she’d pushed it away as best she could. But in a quiet house in Nixon, New Jersey, she’d had plenty of time to recall just how close to death she’d come. At the time, she’d not cared.</p><p>But Alice didn’t want to die anymore.</p><p>She gripped the quilt closer. Outside the window she watched the snowfall. Fresh tears welled in her eyes. Three years ago, she’d stared out the same window. Three years ago, she’d laughed at the snowstorm that kept her inside. Three years ago, she’d imagined the worst, tried to prepare herself for it.</p><p>She’d not imagined coming home paranoid of every cough and sniffle.</p><p>Creaking wood pulled Alice’s attention away from the quilt between her hands and scrunched against her face. She turned to the right. It surprised her to find Nixon awake. But he seemed to be, a bit at least. He didn’t smile at all, just looked at her in concern. Alice didn’t say anything, either. She tried to offer him a small smile instead. </p><p>“Go back to bed, Nix,” she said. With a small sigh, Alice shook her head. “You need to sleep.”</p><p>“Eh, who needs sleep.” At the protest, he did smile a bit. Then he plopped himself down on the couch next to her. After a few moments of silence, he looked at her. “We need a cat.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help the half-laugh, half-sob that escaped her. They’d agreed to hold off on a dog until they’d finished the traveling they’d be doing come the new year, but maybe a cat would be good. Alice leaned into Nix, trying to relax. </p><p>Like sharing a foxhole, but more comfortable.</p><p>She did her hardest not to think about the snow or the way her chest tightened a bit at each breath. Coughs had been common for her in the winter forever. But after experiencing the hell of pneumonia in the hell of winter in the Ardennes, she couldn’t rationalize it.</p><p>They sat in silence for a while, both lost in thought. The warmth of being near one another gave Alice the comfort she needed to calm down. With each breath she took, she felt more and more assured that she wasn’t sick. Death wouldn’t claim her yet.</p><p>Nix did his best to suppress his yawns, but as the clock struck three, she turned to him and grabbed his arm. “Nix, go to bed.”</p><p>“You first,” he insisted. </p><p>But she shook her head. “I’ll be up in a little while. I want to write a letter.”</p><p>Nix didn’t press her. Whenever she needed to write a letter, he knew it was as much a way for her to work out something with herself as it was to contact the friends they missed. So he just kissed her, relishing the salt of the tears that still covered her face, and left her.</p><p>Alice watched him go. After closing her eyes and taking one more deep breath, she pushed herself up from the couch and lay the blanket back down. Chilly air hit her exposed skin on her arms, but she pushed on. She was in a house, not a foxhole. </p><p>With a pencil and paper in hand, she settled down at the desk in the front room. Alice flipped on a small lamp. Writing the letters sometimes hurt as much as it helped; not all the men she wrote decided to write back. Liebgott never replied, nor Talbert. She’d gotten a single one from Johnny, and one from Bull. Malarkey had corresponded several times, but only once since his return to the States.</p><p>Thankfully, George always wrote back. And so did Gene. Laying the sheets of paper out before her, Alice looked down and paused. That’s who she wanted to write. Gene.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Gene,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope this finds you well. I don’t know if it gets cold in Louisiana, but it’s cold here. Nix is excited about Christmas tomorrow. I hope you have a good Christmas. I’ll admit, I’m not sure what to do with myself right now.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nix started working at the start of the month. With him gone for most of the day, I’ve been trying to practice my painting and piano. I found I’m a little rusty at both! I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s getting quite boring. I may look into getting some sort of job, but I don’t know what.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gene, I wanted to say two things in this. First, I’m sorry. The cold, it’s making me do a lot of thinking. I wish I’d been more careful in Bastogne because I know it placed more stress on you. It was selfish of me. Second, I wanted to thank you. You and Ralph too. I need to send him a note about this. You saved my life, and honestly, I’m not so sure that at the time I really wanted to be saved. Or, I was ready to do whatever it took and damn the consequences.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well, now I do want to live. When it gets cold, and I start coughing, I can’t help but think back on Bastogne. I know it was hard for you, and for Spina, and for every one of the medics of the 101st. And I want you to know that a year later, I’m just as grateful now as then, and in fact, even more grateful. I can only hope that you and the rest of Easy are alright this winter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I haven’t prayed in a long time, Gene, but I know you do. Next time you pray, keep me in mind, please. I need to figure this out, everything. I need to figure out what I’m going to do now that we’re home. Hopefully someday soon I’ll stop being angry at God. But until then, do the prayers for me. Christian ones are better than none at all, I suppose.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stay warm, Gene. And thank you for everything. You kept me alive, even when I wanted everything but that. I’m in your debt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alice Klein</em><br/>
<em>Joyeux Noel et bonne année, mon ami</em>
</p><p>She stared down at the page, at her script. While she sometimes spoke French with Nix, almost as a way to preserve some small part of what had been Alice before the war, being able to write it out to someone she knew would appreciate it made her smile. Despite the deep sense of regret she still felt at not being able to wish him well on the holidays, it helped a bit. Sticking the pages into an envelope, she left it on the desk.</p><p>Alice took the stairs quietly. The grandfather clock read 3:25. When she opened the door of the master bedroom, she tried her hardest to be as silent as she could. But easing into bed, she realized Nix hadn’t fallen asleep yet.</p><p>“I told you not to wait,” she muttered.</p><p>But he just scoffed, half asleep. “Yeah, well, I don’t take all the orders from you.”</p><p>She couldn’t help but smile at his joke. Once she had gotten under the sheets and felt the warmth of his presence and the blankets, Alice relaxed. Not Bastogne. Not a foxhole. Not pneumonia.</p><p>“Happy birthday, by the way,” he mumbled.</p><p>With a grin, Alice let herself sleep. That morning he didn’t have to go to work. That morning she didn’t have to struggle at her art. So even if she didn’t enjoy Christmas for the reasons he did, she enjoyed it nonetheless. Christmas meant time off for him. And maybe it would mean a cat. That certainly would make a fantastic birthday.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second time Alice woke up, a gentle light filtered in through the semi-sheer white curtains. Instead of panic, a deep sense of peace filled her entire body. She faced the wall. Directly in front of her sat her dark wood dresser with nothing but jump wings and Lieutenant’s bar on the surface. To the right, the window that let in the morning sunlight. She could hear Nixon’s slow breathing behind her.</p><p>As gently as she could, Alice shifted on the mattress to look at him. His chest rose and fell with each breath. She couldn’t help but smile. The light from the window cascaded around them, shadowing her face but making his glow. His brown hair, sometimes so dark it looked black, had a warm reddish glow. It was nice, seeing him calm and peaceful. </p><p>After over a year of everything but calm and peaceful, Alice treasured those moments. The warmth and pressure of the comforter over her body gave her even more reason to relax. The room was chilly, but the bed felt wonderful. Alice let out a slow, deep breath.</p><p>Bed. She had a bed. She had a blanket and a pillow. She had dresses and makeup and a hairbrush and a house. And she had Nix. As much as the ache of everyone she had lost still weighed on her, she reminded herself how lucky she was. A few tears stung at her eyes unbidden. Alice released the tension in her body and let herself relax.</p><p>“What time is it?” Nix slurred. </p><p>Alice half-suppressed a chuckle. Peering over him, she looked at the clock sitting on his dresser. It surprised her. “Nine.”</p><p>“Jesus, that’s still early,” he muttered. His eyes were still closed. But when she didn’t say anything in response, he opened them. It took a moment of blinking against the sunlight to focus. “Why’d you go downstairs earlier?”</p><p>Alice frowned. For a moment she just looked at him. But they’d promised not to fall back into the bad habits of shutting everything down and drinking away their problems. She sighed and sat up, propping her arm and head on her knee. “I woke up and in the cold,” she tried to explain, “I guess… I don’t know. I thought I was getting pneumonia again. It was pretty silly.”</p><p>But Nix didn’t laugh or smile. Instead, he forced himself to wake up more. Blinking away the sleep and sunlight, he too sat up. “You’re not going to get pneumonia again.”</p><p>He spoke the words so firmly that Alice actually believed it, as though Nix saying so made it irrevocably true. All the fake humor she’d put up as a show collapsed along with her shoulders. “I spent a year in a combat zone, Nix, and I’m terrified of getting ill.” She shook her head a bit and looked away. The desk at the wall across from them became increasingly more fascinating. Her face scrunched against unbidden tears. “It doesn’t make sense!”</p><p>“Nothing makes sense,” Nix muttered bitterly. But then he took a deep breath. “You’re not going to get sick.”</p><p>She sighed. With a small nod, Alice turned back to him. His frown spread all the way to his brown eyes. They were the same dark shade as Marc’s had been. Alice didn’t know if there was a color more beautiful than that.</p><p>“Now who’s staring,” Nix teased. He ran a hand through his hair and yawned. Looking over at his clock, he tried to convince himself to get up.</p><p>Alice let out a tiny laugh. “Sorry. I just… your eyes are the same color as Marc’s.” She’d never mentioned it, never told him. It had felt too personal, almost. A hidden secret she kept for herself.</p><p>He didn’t say anything in response. But he smiled. Rolling out of bed, Nixon stretched, yawned, and sorted through his dresser for clothes. Staying where she was, Alice closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, the way Gene had suggested she do it in the last weeks of Austria. The sounds of wooden drawers opening and closing, rustling cloth, and Nix’s bare feet against the floorboards surrounded her. </p><p>“So, do you want a cat?”</p><p>Alice opened her eyes. As Nix finished getting ready, pulling his brown wool suit jacket on, she narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>“Don’t play dumb,” she scolded. But Alice couldn’t suppress the grin at his teasing. Pushing the heavy comforter off herself she put her bare feet on the floor and sighed. The cold wood reminded her ever so briefly of snow again. But she hid her discomfort and got up to rifle through her own dresser. “So, do you want a cat?” she echoed.</p><p>“I’d tolerate it,” he added.</p><p>She scoffed. Even facing away from him she knew he was teasing. Alice looked over her shoulder. He leaned in the doorway watching her, smirk on his face as she expected. “Well, clearly you have an idea. You’re much too excited for nine o’clock in the morning.”</p><p>Nixon let out a laugh. “Meet me downstairs when you’re put together.”</p><p>Just like that, he turned and headed off. Alice rolled her eyes. Laughing under her breath, she finished pulling on her dress and shoes and started on her hair. Twenty minutes later, she hurried down into the kitchen. Nix had grabbed a box of Cheerios from the pantry.</p><p>“So, what’s your plan?” Alice asked. She took the bowl of cereal and sat down at their dining table. “Do your connections in the business world give you a go-to ‘cat guy’?”</p><p>He started chuckling as he took a bite of his own breakfast. “I have my sources.”</p><p>With a half-hearted glare, Alice just worked at her cereal. She knew some battles were worth fighting, and some weren’t. With Nix, if he got it in his mind to keep something a surprise, she couldn’t change that. By the time they finished, it was already a quarter past ten. She smiled when Nix told her to get her coat, and smiled as she sat in the drivers’ seat. As much as she was glad she’d learned to drive years ago, Alice was more than happy to let Nix do it.</p><p>Despite the inch of snow on the ground, the drive past pleasantly. The sun pushed out from behind the clouds. As much as Bastogne had made her truly hate snow, the blanket of white on the ground looked less forbidding than she expected. Soon enough, they pulled up outside a large house. Not quite as massive as the Nixon estate, it still stood older and taller than most homes Alice had gotten used to seeing in New Jersey. Nix told her they’d driven about halfway to Princeton.</p><p>“I’ve got a friend here. Will. He graduated from Princeton when I graduated from Yale,” Nix explained. He opened the door of the car and hopped out. As Alice did the same, he continued, “Will joined the Marines.”</p><p>Alice wrapped her coat tighter. “And this has to do with a cat?”</p><p>He chuckled. “While Will was gone, his wife Peg started rescuing cats. I ran into him the other day when I was in Princeton for work. Apparently, one of them had kittens.”</p><p>As they moved up the driveway to the door, Alice turned to him. “What do they know about me?”</p><p>Nix shrugged. “They know we met during the war. That’s about it. They know you’re from France, nothing else though.”</p><p>They waited by the door. Five, ten seconds passed. The clouds started to cover the sun again and Alice shivered where she stood. Out of the city limits, there were acres of open, snow-covered land near each house. Just like the Nixon estate. Too much snow.</p><p>The brass doorknob turned. A woman, slim and shorter than Alice with light brown curls, grinned at them. “Lewis!” She turned back. “Will! Lewis is here!” Then she stood back and ushered them in. “It’s freezing out there! Come in, come in!”</p><p>“Hey Peg,” Nix said. </p><p>They both stepped into the hall. The wallpaper, minty teal background with gold and white flowers, gleamed in the lights. They could hear a radio from further in. As a blond young man turned a corner, dressed in slacks and a button-down and sweater vest combination, Nix visibly brightened. </p><p>“Lew!” The man grinned and hurried down the hall. “And you must be Alice?”</p><p>With a nod small smile, she accepted the hand he extended. “You must be Will. And Peg?”</p><p>Peg nodded. “That’s me! Will said you two were looking to get a cat?”</p><p>“Yes,” Alice said, grinning. “You’ve got one?”</p><p>Peg laughed and shook her head. “One? We’ve got five right now. Come on.” Then she turned around. “Will, could you go check on Tommy? He was napping on the couch.”</p><p>With a smile and nod, Will left his wife to show them the kittens. Peg ushered them up the stairs. She explained they’d set aside a bedroom when Miss Marmalade, the mother cat, had shown signs of pregnancy. </p><p>“The poor darling was wandering around Princeton. When Will and I saw her, I picked her up and brought her home.” Peg led the way down the hall. She stopped at the second door on the left. “She gave birth to six healthy kittens about seven weeks ago now.”</p><p>The door opened to the sounds of kittens. Alice’s heart melted. Her first thoughts at the glimpse of two kittens, one white with a black nose and the other a calico, was the white kitten in Haguenau. She stopped at the door. A gentle hand on her back from Nix gave her the push she needed to move further in.</p><p>Peg had moved off to check on the others. They took in the room. The orange and white Marmalade, Miss Marmalade as Peg had insisted was her name, sat sprawled out on a pile of blankets in the corner. The two kittens who had stormed the door were joined by two more, two blank ones with some white markings. Alice picked her way around the screaming bundles of fluff over to a couch. </p><p>By the time she’d sat down, Nix had been mobbed by the kittens. Alice found the sixth one, an orange tabby kitten who had quite a voice. Not satisfied with sharing Nixon, the kitten turned towards Alice. Peg laughed. </p><p>“That’s Spot,” she told Alice. “He’s quite a handful.”</p><p>The kitten leapt up on the couch and pushed his head against Alice’s arm. With a grin, she let Spot smell her hand. Spot. What a funny name. He had beautiful stripes. As he clambered onto her and pushed his head up against her face, purring and letting out high pitched whines for attention, Alice couldn’t stop grinning.</p><p>“Hello there,” she cooed. Alice ran a hand over his fur. The touch made Spot even more excited, and his meows were drowning out by his motor-like purring. “Aren’t you sweet.”</p><p>“He’s a bit of a crazy cat,” Peg told her, but she smiled as she said it. “He loves people. Absolutely adores them. Honestly, sometimes I think he likes people more than cats!”</p><p>Alice looked at her and laughed. As Spot headbutted her again, she turned back to them. “Now that is rather silly, Spot. People are much worse than cats.”</p><p>“You said his name is Spot?” Nixon laughed as he moved over to where Peg stood with Alice. The kittens had left him alone, starting their own chaos with their mother. “He’s got stripes though.”</p><p>“I love it,” Alice said. “It’s hilarious.”</p><p>Nix chuckled again. “Why am I not surprised.”</p><p>“If you want him, he’s yours! They’re already eating cat food. We’ve got some extra cans you can take with you if you want him today,” Peg told them. “Secretly I think Will is tired of having to share his house with a whole clan of kittens.”</p><p>Alice only spared Nix half a glance before nodding to Peg. “We’ll take him.”</p><p>By the time Peg had gathered up what supplies she could part with, Alice had spent a good ten minutes holding Spot to her chest. They stood in the kitchen, Nix chatting with Will about nothing of any particular importance. Peg soon reappeared, handing Nix a small basket of what Alice thought looked suspiciously like K-Rations.</p><p>“Take good care of him,” Peg said, frowning. She ran a hand between Spot’s ears. “Bye, baby.”</p><p>With a smile, she thanked Will and Peg. Nix opened the door for them and soon they’d bundled into the car out of the cold. Alice couldn’t stop smiling at the furry little orange kitten that jumped from her lap down to the floor in front of her.</p><p>“A striped cat named Spot,” Nix said. He started snickering under his breath. “Perfect.”</p><p>Alice looked at him and couldn’t help but laugh about it too. It did seem pretty perfect, a tiny representation of the fact that nothing really made sense anymore. But even when nothing made sense, it still worked out. And that, Alice decided, that was just fine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>December 30, 1945</strong>
</p><p>Whoever said time heals all wounds had never been truly broken. As Alice stood at the window in the living room, watching as gentle flakes floated from grey skies to half-coated grass, she did her best to think of the positives. But the positives always came back to a single, hard truth; the best part of December 1945 was that it wasn’t December 1944. And with thoughts of the past December flooding her mind, she felt cold, and she felt pain.</p><p>When Alice closed her eyes at night, she could hear the screams. She’d only been on the line for a single artillery barrage like the ones Easy had endured time and again. But that single cascade of firepower had resulted in the deaths of two close friends. In that moment, with trees splintering and cracking around her, with shells lighting up the sky like some sort of cruel version of Bastille Day’s fireworks, her understanding of the siege of Bastogne had changed.</p><p>In that moment, Alice had felt terror in a way she’d only experienced twice before; the night in Paris, when she’d been cornered and groped and treated like a plaything had been the first. The second had been when the animals from H Company had grabbed her in the body of the Samaria. In Bastogne, she’d become reacquainted with terror.</p><p>Artillery shells screamed when they hurled through the air. It didn’t sound like human screams. But it was a scream, a shrill whistle that ended in a massive bang, a visceral thud that shattered bones and splintered trees. Instead of white flurries falling around them, they’d had bits of bark, bits of ground, and sometimes bits of the uniforms of their fallen friends.</p><p>Alice slammed her eyes shut. Her most vivid final memory of Skip and Alex was of the two of them joking with George, poking fun at the ineptitude of Lieutenant Dike. Skip had rolled his eyes, Alex had scoffed. But smiles had tugged at both of them. Malarkey had laughed hardest of all, more in disbelief than anything else.</p><p>Had she known that George’s little tease about Dike would be the last moment she saw their faces, Alice might’ve rebuked Lip for telling him off. But she hadn’t known. None of them had.</p><p>At least with Bill and Joe, not only had they lived, but for Bill, she’d been able to say goodbye. Skip and Alex had died while she’d cowered away in a foxhole. She’d smashed her nose into the frozen ground in a desperate attempt at self-preservation.</p><p>Foxhole Norman hadn’t been stupid. He’d been scared.</p><p>Opening her eyes, Alice looked outside again. Behind the gray cloud cover, the sun must’ve been setting. She gripped the porcelain mug in her hands, knuckles turning white. The warmth had faded. She wondered, briefly, how long she’d been standing at the window like some sort of ghost. Too long, probably.</p><p>She sighed. Her warm breath fogged the window ever so slightly. For a moment, Alice just stared. She remembered a different fogged-up window, a different time and a different place. That had been on a train, in 1942. Three and a half years ago. Her breath caught. She looked at the fog fading before releasing another breath, and clouding it again.</p><p>In a moment of impulse, Alice poked two little dots for eyes, and a curved line for a smile. It took a moment, but soon she felt the corners of her mouth moving upward involuntarily. Her own tiny smile mirrored the foggy face in the window.</p><p>But soon the face faded away. The ambient light of twilight faded away, and she was left with her own reflection in the glass. The scar on her cheek had faded, but had never gone away. Nix assured her that it was only noticeable to those who knew to look for it. It wasn’t vanity that made her wish it would go away. Not vanity, but memory.</p><p>Alice looked at the girl in the window. Blonde hair, weepy blue eyes, face flushed from holding back unshed tears and unbidden emotion. The perfect Aryan. With a gasp, Alice shied away.</p><p>The room around her was mostly dark, lit by a single lap on the side table by a pristine couch. No one ever used the front room. The one in the back of the house, across from the kitchen, that was their space. It had a piano, and a fireplace, and a couch for sitting in, not gazing at. The one in the back of the house had blankets, quilts from Mrs. Nixon and her friends. It felt like home.</p><p>Alice padded down the hall, past the staircase until she stood in the junction between the kitchen and the family room. She placed her lukewarm mug of tea on the counter. It didn’t take long for her to move into her favorite room. A sharp meow interrupted her thoughts as Spot looked up from his nest of blankets on the far corner of the couch.</p><p>“Comfy?” she asked. “I bet you are. You’ve got all the best blankets, buddy.”</p><p>She took up the other corner, the one she usually used, closest to the doorway. Even as she grabbed the one blanket Spot hadn’t stolen, the small orange tabby stretched his back and joined her. Alice smiled again. </p><p>“You know, Bernadette would’ve really loved you,” she whispered. Alice scratched between his ears. When the kitten headbutted her hand, she just laughed through her tears. “Yeah, I think you know that.”</p><p>As tears filled her eyes, Alice had to slam them shut. Bernadette. At the time, when she’d found out about what had happened to her parents and sister, Alice hadn’t had time to process the fact that she’d been alive and fighting while Bernadette had been withering away in a death camp. She had never quite been able to figure out if that was good, or made her feel worse.</p><p>While she’d slammed her face into the frozen dirt of the Ardennes out of self-preservation, Bernadette had slaved away in Auschwitz. She’d not done much research into the camps; her heart couldn’t take it. Nothing would be the same with the knowledge that her beautiful, kind, good sister had suffered, believing Alice to be dead, or worse, off saving herself.</p><p>She had, of course. That’s exactly what had happened. She’d fled Paris. She’d fled her problems and she’d fled her responsibilities. And Bernadette had died alone because of it.</p><p>Spot’s meow cut through the silent family room. The noise jerked Alice from her thoughts. Her hand had paused. Spot wanted pets. She obliged.</p><p>In her mind, Alice knew it wasn’t true. Her own actions had been unrelated to Bernadette’s death, unlike Marc. In fact, her own actions had in some small, tiny way helped the Allies end the Nazi tyranny. She hadn’t been hiding in Bastogne. She hadn’t been hiding when she’d slogged her way across Normandy, through rain and mud so thick it sucked off the soldiers’ boots. She’d been fighting.</p><p>Nix reminded her that every time her thoughts strayed. But Nix wasn’t there. Alice looked down at Spot again. The steady vibration of his purr oddly contrasted her memories of the roar of machine gun fire. It hummed instead of screamed. As she used the sleeve of her pajamas to wipe her tears away, Alice shook her head. Nix wasn’t there, but Spot was. </p><p>Alice glanced at the clock on the wall. Nearly 8:00 pm. With a deep breath, Alice stood from the couch and left her whining kitten behind. The phone in their house rarely rang. If it rang, it tended to be a work emergency for Nixon, some sort of problem he needed to fix or an argument with Stanhope Nixon that the company needed smoothed over. </p><p>For her part, Alice rarely used it to call out. Nix had called Dick a few times, Harry once. But Alice hadn’t had the courage to dial anyone. Letters had sufficed for her, physical pieces of paper she could store forever. She couldn’t hold a telephone call in her hands.</p><p>But she could hold a telephone, and she could hear a voice on the other end. It didn’t take long for her to dial the operator number she’d memorized, though never used. When she got through, Alice felt her throat clench.</p><p>“I’d like to be connected to the Luz residence, George Luz.”</p><p>“Please hold, I will attempt to dial your call.”</p><p>Alice held. The switchboard operator did her work, trying to connect her to one of the few people other than Nix that Alice considered family. - Leaning against the wall, she tried not to think too hard. </p><p>
  <em>“Quit thinkin’ so hard, Sweetheart.”</em>
</p><p>She shuddered. Bill would have to be the next call. Part of her didn’t know how to call him, though, how to ask how he was doing without a leg, having missed all of Germany. She wasn’t sure if word had gotten back to him about her sister. She’d not told him. She’d not talked about it with anyone since she’d found out.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>Female. The voice was female, after the operator connected her. But in some strange way, Alice knew it belonged to a Luz. Intuition, or hope, she didn’t know. “Hello? Is this the Luz residence?”</p><p>“Yes. Who is this?”</p><p>The voice sounded young. Not childlike, but not a mother. Victoria perhaps? Or Rita? Suddenly, her throat clenched and she didn’t know what to say. Names she’d heard over and over, belonging to stories of faces she’d seen only in a ratty black and white photo, floated in her mind.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“I’m sorry. Yes, this is Alice, I’m a friend of George. I was wondering,” she paused. Wondering what? If he was okay? If he was having nightmares too? If he was there? If he wanted to talk? “Is he able to speak on the phone?”</p><p>“So you’re Alice.” A pause. “Yes, he’s here. I’ll get him.”</p><p>A shouted string of words in a language Alice recognized as Portuguese made its way through the phone wires. It made her pause. She’d heard George say a few words here and there, whenever they got on the subject of languages. It had taken him a long time to let her hear it at all; he’d said it reminded him too much of home. Hearing one of his sisters rattle off the lyrical language without a care in the world conjured up all sorts of contradictory emotions. This was his real family. They spoke the same languages.</p><p>“Alice?” George’s voice came through clearly. It sounded tired, strained.</p><p>She couldn’t respond at first. But after a moment, she croaked out a simple, “Hey, George.”</p><p>“Jesus, Alice. How are you? How’s Nixon?” He paused. “How’s… how are you?”</p><p>Her eyes squeezed shut unbidden. Tears filled the corners. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“Don’t lie to me,” he chastised. “I can hear you’re not.”</p><p>“You’re not doing any better,” she bit back.</p><p>Silence met her on the other end. For a horrible moment, Alice thought he’d hung up. “George?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” He sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.”</p><p>It was her turn to be silent. What could she say? What could anyone say? Finally, she sighed. “So, which sister did I have the pleasure of talking to?”</p><p>She could hear his grin in his voice. “That was the one and only Victoria Luz.”</p><p>Victoria. She now had a name for a voice, and a voice for a face. Somehow that knowledge made her feel more than a little better. Victoria Luz. She’d met, sort of, George’s family. “She sounds nice, George. I’m not surprised you love her so much.”</p><p>He laughed. The laughter sounded a bit lighter. Talking about family, about other people, that was easier. It was certainly easier for her. With another small laugh, he responded. “Yeah, well, I’ve gotta set a good example for her boyfriend.”</p><p>“She’s got a boyfriend?” Alice grinned. She shook her head. “What’s his name?”</p><p>“William, if you can believe it. Goes by Will though,” he added.</p><p>Another laugh escaped her. Blinking away the tears, her hands gripped the phone tighter. “Well, watch out for him. You know what Williams are like.”</p><p>“Crazy sons of bitches.” Almost immediately, the sound of a woman’s sharp voice echoed through the phone, and she heard George respond in Portuguese. “Sorry. I still get yelled at for my language.”</p><p>“You never could keep your mouth shut,” she replied. It came easily, the banter. Relief flooded her body. After a moment of hesitation wherein only a small chuckle from George sounded, she sighed. The moments of laughter gave her some sort of small permission to voice her thoughts. “I miss them.”</p><p>“Yeah. Me too.”</p><p>“Have you heard from anyone?” she asked.</p><p>His sigh sounded loud and clear. “Other than letters? No.” After another pause, he added, “You haven’t heard from Tab, have you?”</p><p>Floyd Talbert. One of two men she’d been desperately trying to track down, and hadn’t managed it yet. “No,” she said. “No, I haven’t.”</p><p>“Figured.” Then he laughed. “He’ll write back. You still owe him a dance.”</p><p>Alice burst out laughing. But tears stung her eyes. “Yeah, I do. Though I don’t know how thrilled Nix will be when I dance with Floyd Talbert.”</p><p>“Eh, he’ll understand. Nixon’s a good guy.” </p><p>Before she could respond, she heard the key turning in the front door of their house. Nix. “George, I’ve got to go.” She paused. Footsteps, sighs, and the sounds of a bag hitting the floor pulled her attention away.</p><p>“Yeah, so do I. Hey, call me soon, okay?”</p><p>“Absolutely.” Then, her breath caught. Fear rushed in. “George what if something happens-”</p><p>“Hey, stop the overthinking.” After a pause, he added, “And we’ll always have Paris.”</p><p>She couldn’t stop the laugh. “That’s it. I’m hanging up on you.”</p><p>“I’m shocked, shocked that you would do such a thing.”</p><p>“Bye, George.” Once she’d heard his laugh, she slammed the phone against the hook with her own melancholic grin. As she turned towards the hallway, she found them chatting, laughing.</p><p>“Alice!” Blanche’s face lit up as she stepped into the room, from happiness or from the lamp, Alice couldn’t quite tell. But she grinned and hurried over. “How are you?”</p><p>Alice grabbed her into a hug. Her coat was cold from the outside, but her embrace gave Alice warmth from both proximity and comfort. “I’m okay! Glad you’re back.”</p><p>And she really was. As Blanche broke away and stood back, Alice looked her in the eye. If she hadn’t been privy to Blanche’s health problems from Nix’s letters, she would never have suspected that the young woman felt as broken as Alice knew she did. She’d not been to war. War had found her in her mind.</p><p>“I’m glad too,” she admitted. Blanche turned around, looking back as Nix wandered over. “My brother here was telling me all about your new addition to the family. Where is he?”</p><p>It took all of about ten seconds for Spot himself to make introductions. The cat pushed his way through Alice’s legs until he stood before Blanche. Meowing and mewling, he tried to weave around her. Not for the first time, Alice worried what it would be like when he was fully grown. Hopefully, he didn’t get too big, or he might push them over.</p><p>“Hello, friend!” Blanche’s grin reached her eyes. She knelt down in her dress, trying to get as close to eye to eye as she could with a ten-inch tall kitten. </p><p>Alice moved to the side as she talked to the cat. Nix followed. He shot her a tiny smile, and she returned it.</p><p>“You okay?” he asked, keeping his voice low. They moved into the kitchen. </p><p>With a sigh, she shrugged. “I’ve been better. But I called George. That helped.”</p><p>“That’s good. Knowing him, that was probably the best Christmas present,” he teased.</p><p>Alice started laughing and shook her head. But lowering her voice, her humor fell away as she glanced through the hall where Blanche had knelt with Spot. “How was her Christmas?”</p><p>He released a small breath. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’m trying-”</p><p>“I know you are,” Alice said. She stood as tall as she could and pulled him into a kiss. He deflated at the touch. When she finally broke it she grabbed his arm. “Nix, she knows. I promise you, she knows.”</p><p>“Yeah.” He released an unsteady breath. “Yeah. I know.”</p><p>Alice wasn’t sure he did. Not much could make Lewis Nixon visibly unsure, but Blanche was one of them. She seemed to teeter on the edge of his concern at all times. She recognized it; the concern of an older sibling. She’d felt that way with Bernadette, even on the days that she wanted nothing more than to slam the door on her little sister. </p><p>“Come on. We should all get to bed,” she told him. </p><p>It didn’t take long for Blanche to agree. Alice watched her make her careful way up the stairs, Spot in toe. And after a drink of wine with Nix, they followed. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>January 2, 1946</b>
</p><p>Her heart raced. Alice stood before the mirror in her bedroom, staring again at her reflection. Nix was downstairs somewhere, probably making a new pot of coffee. Behind her on the bed, Blanche sat quiet, as beautiful and put together as a movie star.</p><p>“Alice, you look fine,” Blanche repeated. “Trust me, no matter how beautiful you make yourself look, my father is still going to find fault.”</p><p>She frowned. Glancing at Blanche in the reflection of the mirror, she nodded. Her green dress sat well against her body, the long sleeves hiding any of the scars still visible from her year at war. That year had come and gone, and now, 1946 meant new beginnings. And one of those new beginnings was finally meeting Stanhope Nixon.</p><p>“You do look beautiful,” Blanche added. She stood from the bed, smoothing her own black dress with practiced movements. Coming to stand beside Alice, she smiled. “Trust me. Don’t think about what my father will say, or what his stupid executives will snicker about. Lew loves you, and I think you’re pretty great.”</p><p>Alice chuckled. “Thanks, Blanche.”</p><p>“Of course.” She smiled again. “Come on. Let’s go.”</p><p>Letting Blanche slip her arm inside her own, Alice was led away from the mirror and out into the hall. Their heels clicked against the floor. Before they started down the stairs, though, Blanche stopped her again.</p><p>“Remember, play the game. My brother doesn’t understand,” she added. “He’ll probably mouth off to our father, say something stupid that’ll end with you being the one in trouble. That’s how this works. So, I’m going to talk to Lewis. You need to talk to him, too.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>With her eyes on Blanche’s back, she followed her down the stairs. Alice could hear Nix in the kitchen as he gasped and cursed. For a moment, she smiled. He knew how to cook? Alice would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so stressed.</p><p>“Lew, what’d you do this time?” Blanche called. As she moved down the hall, her perfectly styled brown hair bouncing at the shoulders, she chuckled. “I thought I was the bad cook.”</p><p>“You are! That’s why you’ve got to stick with me,” Nix bit back.</p><p>Alice moved into the kitchen after her. Nixon was sucking at his finger, a scalding hot pot of coffee nearby. She chuckled. “I don’t know, Nix. My money’s on your sister for long term success.”</p><p>“I never should’ve introduced you two,” he muttered. “Come on. Drink your coffee. Nixon, New Jersey awaits the Nixons.”</p><p>Blanche scoffed, but she grabbed one of the mugs. “Lew, we need to talk.”</p><p>“What about?”</p><p>“About what’s going to happen when you show up to Nixon Nitration Works with your unwed partner who happens to have gotten together with you during a war while you were married.” Blanche took a sip and then set the mug down. “You know how this looks. You both know how this looks.”</p><p>“For Christ’s sake. I didn’t cause the divorce,” Nix snapped. “Thank God it happened though.”</p><p>Alice huffed out a small laugh. She lowered her gaze for a second. But then she just smirked and shook her head as Blanche scoffed.</p><p>“Lew, stop and think. This is our father. He doesn’t care what actually happened, he cares about the image.” She held up her hand when he went to mutter on. “I’m all for the two of you. But you’re currently living together, unmarried, after meeting in a war while you were still married. That looks bad to Stanhope Nixon. Especially now that mom’s moved on.”</p><p>Lewis frowned but nodded. “About damn time.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Turning from Nix to Alice, she sighed. “You’re going to have to put up with whatever he says, Alice. It might not be nice.”</p><p>“Trust me,” she replied. “I’ve put up with plenty.”</p><p>Lewis snickered behind his coffee. With a widening smile, Alice glanced at him. She’d definitely put up with anything that Stanhope Nixon could possibly try to throw her way. Not much got worse than being called a Nazi by the men fighting the Nazis. She could handle an unhappy Mister Nixon.</p><p>“So, Lew, no fighting,” Blanche continued. “You’re smart. Be smart.”</p><p>“Did you just call me smart,” he joked. Turning to Alice, he shook his head. “Did you hear that? Did she just call me smart?”</p><p>“You did graduate Yale,” Alice pointed out. “I’d hope you did so on more than your name.”</p><p>Blanche snorted. “Yeah. Well, that’s an extra point for Lew cause our father got thrown out.”</p><p>A few more minutes passed, Blanche trying to get it into Nix’s head that no matter what their father tried to throw their way, he couldn’t let it provoke him. They had to take it evenly, with intelligence. Nix took great pleasure in reminding his sister that he had been an intelligence officer for a reason.</p><p>As she wrapped her coat tight around her body and moved to the door, Alice just laughed. “He means he thinks he’s intelligent. We’re supposed to laugh, Blanche.”</p><p>At that, they did laugh. A bit of the stress that built up while they scooted into their car faded at the sound. The snow had melted away, leaving only a very thin layer in parts of the grass where trees or bushes offered shade. That, Alice could handle. She could handle it.</p><p>The drive passed mostly in silence. Alice looked out the front window, gazing at the land around them as they moved further into the small area of Nixon, New Jersey. Buildings dotted the side of the street, many of them bearing the Nixon name. She’d been into the two a few times, but primarily when they needed something, they stopped in Princeton. Less prying eyes that way.</p><p>With a click of the key being removed from the engine, the car quieted. By contrast, Alice felt like her beating heart was getting louder and louder. She feared they would all hear the pounding. Looking left, she met Nix’s gaze. He just smirked. She took a deep breath through her nose as she opened the door. In the cold, she sputtered for a moment.</p><p>It took all her willpower to force the growing fear of sickness back down. She couldn’t deal with that. One disaster at a time. And at that moment, the disaster was the impending meeting with Stanhope Nixon.</p><p>Nix opened the door for them. Somehow the click of Blanche’s heels against the floor alongside her own offered a bit of comfort. She knew how hard being a woman in a man’s world could be. Blanche knew it too.</p><p>The instance she walked in, Alice could feel the gazes of the secretaries glancing her way. Several women, two with dark hair and one blonde, eyed them carefully. Alice almost stopped in her tracks. Was that anger? It hadn’t really crossed her mind that the women of the Nixon corporation may resent her.</p><p>Blanche stared them down. With her nose slightly upturned, she just took Alice’s arm in her own and smiled. The girls at the desks turned away, back to their jobs. So Alice turned her attention to where Nix had moved beyond the front desks. Standing with a clipboard, red hair less styled than Alice would’ve expected for a secretary, a young woman stood waiting for them.</p><p>“Mr. Nixon, you’ve got a meeting in a half-hour with an aid from the Governor. Your father wants see you before you go in.” She turned to Blanche and Alice. “Miss Nixon, Miss Klein, your presence has been requested as well.”</p><p>Her accent screamed Ireland. It made her pause. But as the woman’s brown eyes turned her way, she just smiled. For a moment, it felt like being back in Europe. She’d never been to Ireland, but one of Millie’s friends had been from Dublin. They’d met in London. The woman had gone on for an hour, her lyrical accent music to Alice’s ears.</p><p>Nix snorted. With a shake of his head, he took a coffee that Ruth handed him and turned back to his sister and Alice. “Come on, better not keep him waiting. I’d hate to upset the Master of the Nixon Corporation.”</p><p>Blanche just rolled her eyes, displeased with Nix’s lack of decorum. But to Alice’s delight, Ruth poorly attempted to suppress her own grin. She turned to Alice and Blanche. “Would either of ye like a coffee?”</p><p>“No, thank you,” Alice assured her.</p><p>“Right then, come on now.”</p><p>She moved down the hall, past several doors with frosted glass windows. A few men in suits passed them without sparing Alice a glance, only nodding to Nix as they went. She could feel Blanche tensing beside her the further into the offices they moved. Alice tried not to let herself read too into it.</p><p>Ruth stopped before a door at the far end of a hall. She knocked twice and opened it, peeking her head in. “Mr. Nixon, your son’s here see you.”</p><p>“Send him in.”</p><p>Alice didn’t know what she’d been expecting when she followed Nix into the office. But after what could only be seen as a conciliatory smile from Ruth, she braced herself for anything. Blanche took up a spot behind her, taking a deep breath. Alice tried to do the same. She tried not to draw parallels between her brief meeting with the Army Brass in New York before hopping on a train to Toccoa. This wasn’t war. This was an office in Nixon, New Jersey.</p><p>The name alone made her stress skyrocket. As she stepped out from behind Nix, barely listening to him fall into an easy repartee with the man behind the desk, she tried to stand tall. Stanhope Nixon had brown eyes like his children. That was the only similarity though. Where Lewis Nixon had a smile, he had a scowl. Where Blanche had poise, he sat stiff. His greying hair had gone thin in places, and deep lines cut through his cheeks.</p><p>Probably from his drinking. Alice had heard so many stories from Nix. She knew about his legal trouble, how his own father had bailed Stanhope out of jail when he’d nearly killed a man while drunk. Sometimes, while they’d lie in bed trying to forget the war, Nix would admit that he worried about becoming like his father. That, more than anything, was what drove Nix to try his best to curb his drinking. If they ever wanted a family, he had to control it.</p><p>“You’re Alice?”</p><p>She tried to switch off her brain as Stanhope turned her way. Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Yes, sir. It’s nice to finally meet you.”</p><p>“Is that so?” He stood from his chair, moving from behind the desk. The one thing in common he had with his children was stature. “Lewis has told me very little about you.”</p><p>“We figured we’d save the details for a first meeting,” Nix told him. The lie came easily. They’d practiced it frequently. Most people didn’t need to know the extent of Alice’s association with the war effort, and they’d picked very few people outside of the other immediate family to explain the truth to. Empty platitudes would suffice. “Alice Klein, my father, Mr. Stanhope Nixon. Dad, this is Alice.”</p><p>“At least if you do end up married, you’ll sound less German.”</p><p>She straightened up. Her throat clenched at the thinly veiled insult.- For a moment, words failed her. He had all but called her a Nazi. If not a Nazi, then she didn’t know what other insinuation he could possibly be making.</p><p>“Is this a permanent thing, then?” Stanhope turned from Alice to his son. “You’re not going to try to get Kathy back?”</p><p>“No,” Nix said, gritting his teeth. “I’m not. Alice is my finance.”</p><p>The dramatic sigh he replied with said everything without words. But just as Stanhope stepped behind the desk and moved into the chair, Blanche spoke up. “Alice is fluent in three languages. Educated in the University of Paris alongside General de Gaulle’s niece-”</p><p>“You graduated then?” he asked, cutting off Blanche. “What year?”</p><p>Alice sighed. “I didn’t graduate, sir. The war ended that for me, when the Nazis took Paris.”</p><p>“Hm. Well then.” Stanhope rolled his eyes. “Lewis, she’s not even college-educated.”</p><p>“She was working on it,” Blanche argued. “The war-”</p><p>Stanhope rounded on her. He sneered. “Oh for christ’s sake spare me the sob story, Blanche. I don’t need to hear it right now.” He turned from her to Alice, and then to Nix. “We have a meeting with the governor’s aid in fifteen minutes. I hope you did something practical over your Christmas break and got ready for this.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>After flinching at Stanhope’s tone towards his daughter, Alice kept her mouth shut. She didn’t smile. And when Nix had flipped on the tone she had heard him use time and again with incompetent, petulant higher-ranking officers, she decided she’d had enough. Based on Blanche’s drawn expression beside her, she figured she had as well.</p><p>“Ruth!”</p><p>At Stanhope’s call, the woman popped her head back in. “Yes, sir?”</p><p>“Take these two, get them food, or something,” he added.</p><p>Alice didn’t need any other encouragement. As she followed Blanche out the door, she heard Stanhope muttering about needing a drink. The door clicked behind her. Mere seconds later, as Ruth offered them a small smile, she could hear raised voices from the room behind her.</p><p>They stood in silence for a moment. Blanche and Alice shared a small glance, and then Alice turned to Ruth. Her smile had faded a bit, the practiced lie slipping. She sighed.</p><p>“Well, then. Come on, now. Miss Nixon, how’s your lovely mother? She enjoying the other coast? I d’be lying I said I wasn’t jealous.”</p><p>And like that, they left behind the shouting match. They fell into small banter, Blanche obliging Ruth’s obvious attempt at smoothing things over. But Alice just stayed quiet. It could’ve gone worse, she supposed. It seemed that Stanhope cared more that they got married if they were living together than being dead set on forbidding the marriage at all. Better than nothing. Maybe. Following Blanche and Ruth, she sighed. Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>January 18, 1946</strong>
</p><p>The time had finally come. After far too long holed up in a house in New Jersey, Alice and Nix were heading to see friends. Blanche had been invited as well, as they headed across New Jersey to Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. Home to Harry Welsh, and home to Kitty Grogan.</p><p>Her leg bounced up and down where she sat in the front seat. A couple weeks ago she’d been in a similar spot, stressed in a car. But that had been before seeing her someday father-in-law. A regular jackass, he was. Alice didn’t like him one bit. But Ruth Burke, Nix’s secretary, she was nice. Alice had liked her, even if their interaction had been short.</p><p>But this fear, it came more from anticipation. She’d finally be meeting the woman who had captured Harry’s heart. And not just captured, but ensnared. Alice found she couldn’t suppress a smile even with the trepidation buzzing through every inch of her body.</p><p>Harry had often described her: strawberry blonde hair, hazel eyes, a smile to die for. He’d called her laugh music, her heart as big as he could stretch his arms wide and wit to match. He’d said she had a penchant for rosé wine and sangrias. Tales of her beauty and her kindness and her courage were endless.</p><p>Sometimes, Alice wondered if Nix had ever spoken to Harry and Dick about her like Harry had of Kitty. Probably not. But even the thought of Nix trying to be poetic like Harry had often accidentally been was worth the thought if only for a laugh. Nixon could be philosophical, but poetic? She’d yet to see that.</p><p>As she watched the sun setting from the car window, Alice smiled. Maybe she’d try to turn him into a poet. It would be funny to watch. Turning from the window, she glanced at him. He looked tired. She couldn’t blame him; they’d had to wait until after his workday to set off towards Wilkes-Barre. Even though the trip didn’t take that long, about three hours, he deserved rest on a Friday evening.</p><p>Not long after, they found themselves passing a “<strong>Welcome to Wilkes-Barre</strong>” sign. Alice straightened. The drive through the mountains had been pleasant, but she looked forward to stretching her legs, and then resting. The watercolor-like sky had already started to fade as they moved through residential streets. Harry had given them his address, and said they had two spare rooms. As the first to arrive, they lucked out. </p><p>Dick was supposed to drive in on the 21st, and Ron and Lip sometime between there and the 24th. It amused Alice to no end that Ron had gotten an invitation; as the rivalry between Ron and Harry that started in Mackall had never really died down. But she supposed they’d become friends despite, or perhaps because of, that. Two years and war would do that.</p><p>“This is it.” Nix paused for a moment as the car stopped along the dark street. A light hung on either side of the door, illuminating the path through the small yard. Light floated through the edges of the curtains along the windows. With a smile, Nix turned to her. “Ready?”</p><p>“Absolutely.” She grinned back. Then she turned to Blanche in the back seat. “You?”</p><p>She just chuckled and pushed open her side door in response. It didn’t take long for them all to leave the car behind and start up the sidewalk. They soon stood at the door, and Nix gave it a firm knock. It swung open a moment later.</p><p>Alice had to admit, Harry had been right. Kitty was gorgeous. Her pristine smile only widened as she looked at them.</p><p>“Harry!” she called back. “They’re here.” Then she turned to them again. “So. You must be Lewis, and you’re Alice, and you’re Blanche. Right?” But she didn’t wait for them to respond. She just winked and stood aside to let them in. “Get inside. It's too cold out there. Harry’s been bustling around so much you’d have thought he was a professional cleaner. He’s not, by the way. That would be my job.” She turned down the hall again. “Harry Welsh! Get over here and quit leaving your friends at the mercy of my charms.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t stop smiling. She wore a blue dress, simple but flattering, with a small apron around her waist. In the light of the foyer, she noticed the woman had flour on her hands, making the cracks of her palms whiter than her somewhat flushed skin.</p><p>“I suppose I’ll have to make introductions myself,” she added, raising her voice to shame her fiance. “I’m Kitty, though I’m sure you’ve already guessed that.” Extending her hand, she grabbed Nix’s in a handshake first. “It’s a pleasure.”</p><p>“Nice to finally meet the famous Kitty Grogan,” Nix said, grinning. </p><p>Alice agreed immediately. “You don’t disappoint,” she added.</p><p>Kitty laughed and shook her head. “Blanche, you’re Nix’s sister, right?” Then she paused, turning back to him. “I’m sorry. Can I call you that? Harry calls you Nix. It just slipped out.”</p><p>Alice was touched by the genuine concern in her voice. Beside her, Nix just smirked. With a shrug and a glance at Alice, he snickered. “Old habits die hard. It’s fine. Speaking of, has your husband-to-be got a stash of whiskey in this house?”</p><p>Just as she thought Harry would never make an appearance, the man himself met them halfway through the hall. He skidded to a halt, gap-toothed grin as wide as ever when he saw them. For a moment, Alice feared she would cry. </p><p>“Speak of the devil,” Nix deadpanned. “Goddamnit, Harry. I thought you’d never show your face. Not that Kitty here isn’t better company.”</p><p>“Don’t I know it," was all he managed.</p><p>Alice pushed past Nix as Harry just laughed. She grabbed him in a hug. Laughter and tears escaped her as she just held him. “Damn you.”</p><p>When she finally let go, Alice had to wipe away a few tears. She felt a bit embarrassed, but Kitty just grinned at her. Harry laughed in response, grabbing Nix in a hug, and then turned to Blanche. Nix instantly snapped to attention. He could already see how awkward she felt.</p><p>“Harry, meet Blanche. Blanche, meet Harry. He’s a disaster,” he added. “He encourages my drinking.” Harry protested, but Nix cut him off. “Harry, meet my sister. The best of the Nixon name.”</p><p>That made her smile. “Hello,” she said. When Harry offered his hand, she accepted graciously. “Thank you both for inviting me.”</p><p>“Of course we want you here!” Kitty looked startled. “You’re family.”</p><p>Alice laughed. “Harry, you were right about one thing.”</p><p>“Yeah? What’s that?”</p><p>“Kitty’s too good for you.”</p><p>The whole group burst out laughing. With the ice broken and introductions complete, they moved further into the small house. Harry explained that he’d had enough set aside to buy the house soon after he came back to the states, and Kitty and he planned to move in together as soon as they completed their ceremony. Before long they found themselves sitting around the kitchen table, Kitty getting them a plate of cookies she’d apparently baked in anticipation of their arrival.</p><p>“These are wonderful,” Blanche told her, smiling. She wiped a few crumbs away from the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Your own recipe?”</p><p>“Oh heavens, no. My mom’s,” she added. “Mrs. Grogan’s famous chocolate chip cookies.”</p><p>Harry nodded, mouth full. When he could finally talk again, he sat up straighter and grabbed another one. “Her baking is unmatched.”</p><p>A few minutes passed in quiet. Before long, Kitty eyed her fiance, the others, and then turned back to Harry. “Harry, why don’t you keep these two company while I show Blanche to her room. You’re looking kinda tired, my dear,” she added with a laugh.</p><p>Blanche just chuckled, a bit self-conscious. “Yes. I suppose I am.”</p><p>Before long they’d disappeared, chatting in hushed voices, a few laughs here and there. Harry, Nix, and Alice just sat at the table in a few more moments of silence. But when Kitty didn’t show back up right away, Harry just sighed, and then smirked. “Whiskey?”</p><p>“What else would I drink? Wine?” Nix snorted. “Tell me you’ve got something good.”</p><p>With a short laugh, Hary pushed his chair out from the table. He went to a room on the other side of the kitchen, speaking as he did so. “Ah, Lewis, I bought a case of Vat 69 just for you.”</p><p>“How thoughtful.”</p><p>Before long, Harry returned with the telltale green glass bottle of Nix’s favorite whiskey, and three shot glasses. “You drinking, Alice?”</p><p>“Is that a question?” Her small, slightly bitter laugh said enough. “Pour it, Harry.”</p><p>Soon enough, they each had a glass of the whiskey in their hands. Another stretch of silence, and then Harry finally broke it. “This is a wedding visit. We can’t be depressed.” Then he grinned, and turned straight on them. “So, when are you two getting married?”</p><p>Alice let out a long, deep breath, and Nix did the same. The air tensed. They’d talked about it again a few days before. Neither of them quite knew what to do. They both knew they didn’t want to make it a big deal. They knew it needed to be soon, especially after the altercation with Stanhope Nixon. But they had no interest in him coming to the wedding.</p><p>“Uh oh,” Harry added. “Trouble in paradise, then? Let me guess. Stanhope Nixon?”</p><p>Nix scoffed. “The one and only.” He downed half his glass in a single drink.</p><p>“You two didn’t spend almost three years dancing around a relationship to have that man stop you from getting married,” Harry declared, leaning back in the chair. </p><p>Alice smiled and shook her head. “It’s not going to. But we need to think carefully about how to do this.”</p><p>“The price of fame, huh?” His small laugh and shake of his head said enough. “I’m perfectly fine living in obscurity, having kids, and never seeing another newsreel with my face on it ever again.”</p><p>“Speaking of newsreels,” Alice started, “just how much does Kitty know?”</p><p>“About you?” When she nodded, Harry smirked. “Probably too much, if the Army found out.”</p><p>Nixon laughed as he took another drink of the whiskey. He shook his head and tried to stop himself. “Jesus Christ, Harry. This is why I was the intelligence officer, not you.”</p><p>“Oh right,” Alice scoffed. “Because you took keeping secrets so seriously.”</p><p>“Hey-”</p><p>“Half the time we were working intelligence, I had to remind you to shut your mouth,” she countered, laughing, aghast that he would try to claim moral superiority. “Don’t pretend like you’re the only intelligence officer here, Nix!”</p><p>He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop from smiling at her protests. “Fine, fine. Doesn’t change what I said about Harry!”</p><p>The man in question just snickered. “Listen, what was I gonna tell her? Oh, by the way, Kitty, there’s this girl I met over in Europe who happened to be around us all the time, enough that my friend Lewis fell in love with her, and I want her to come to our wedding. I swear nothing at all strange went on.”</p><p>They had to admit, he had a point. And if anything, Alice was relieved that Kitty knew at least about her role in the Army. But she wanted to know what else the woman had been told. “What does she know, though.” Alice lowered her voice a bit. </p><p>Harry sighed. “She knows a lot. She knows you’re originally from Germany, and France. She knows that you lost your family in the war. And she knows I think you’re one hell of a human being, let alone soldier.”</p><p>“I don’t know about that last part-” When both Nix and Harry scoffed and protested at the exact same moment, she just smiled and shook her head. “Fine. I’ll accept the praise if you two know I think the exact same of you.”</p><p>“Well, you are planning to marry me, so I’d hope,” Nix joked.</p><p>But Alice just grinned. This was what she missed. The banter, the companionship, the ease. She, Harry, Nix. They needed Dick to round it out. She loved Nix, with her entire being, and loved living in New Jersey with him in their house. But she didn’t have friends in New Jersey. Not yet, at any rate. Sitting halfway between Princeton and Nixon, they didn’t have close neighbors, and Nixons didn’t seem to really have friends anyways. Nix had a few college mates in the Princeton area, but no one in their immediate space.</p><p>No wonder Blanche always felt isolated. It occurred to Alice that she’d probably grown up much the same way. Blanche had spoken of one friend in San Francisco, Peg, a woman who she’d met through her mother’s charity work. Peg’s parents contributed quite a bit to Doris Nixon’s various causes, and the woman herself was still living at home while her fiance attended Stanford.</p><p>But even her mentions of Peg were tinged with regret. Being a Nixon, and the daughter of the famous Doris Ryer Nixon what's more, meant holding oneself to higher standards and playing the game of social politics. Alice was starting to understand what that meant. And frankly, she didn’t like it.</p><p>“So Harry, what’s the plan until the whole crew gets here?” Nixon refilled his glass. </p><p>“The two of us are going over to my parents’ place tomorrow,” he told them. “I’ve got more stuff to move over here, and you’re gonna help. Alice, Kitty wanted to know if you’d like to hit the town with her, and I’m sure Blanche as well.”</p><p>She smiled. “I’d love that!”</p><p>“Good. When Ron and Lip show up, we’ve got to play some poker,” he added. “I suggest a shot every time someone folds.”</p><p>Both Alice and Nix cracked up. That was another thing she’d missed. Poker nights. They’d been excellent ways to relax, spots for conversation and ranting and rambling about various things. Topics had ranged from war news to sweethearts back home in the cases of Lip and Harry, to the stupidity of the Army brass, to what latest stunt the enlisted had pulled.</p><p>To be honest, she’d missed everything except the war itself. That was the problem really, though. Each time she tried to think back on the fun moments, they were haunted by pain. But sitting in Harry’s kitchen with the off-white and pale green floral wallpaper, the cream counters and wooden table, she tried to imagine that each poker night had been in that space, not in occupied German homes.</p><p>Kitty didn’t rejoin them. As Alice retired with Nix upstairs an hour later, she found herself agreeing with everything she’d ever heard Harry utter about his fiance. She was smart, and kind, and sharp as a tack. Harry had found someone worthy of him. That knowledge made the adjustment to domestic life just a little easier.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>January 21, 1946</strong>
</p><p>Alice could not stop laughing. Her lungs heaved as she stood in Harry’s kitchen. At her feet, half a dozen blackened cookies speckled the floor, crumbs all around. Kitty stood with her hands on her hips, hair a bit of a mess. But she smiled, trying and failing to stop her own laughter.</p><p>“I did exactly what you said!” Alice protested. “I swear. Kitty!”</p><p>“Clearly not!” She tried to sound stern, but it failed miserably. While Alice struggled desperately to keep it together, she just found her own resolve fading. Her laughter bubbled out before she could stop it. “Alice!”</p><p>With another cackle, Alice just sank to the ground against the cabinets. “I’m so sorry!” </p><p>She was sorry. Kitty had given her very specific instructions for keeping an eye on the chocolate chip cookies. And in her defense, Alice had tried very hard to stick to them. Unfortunately, she’d then found herself wrapped up in a book that she’d found in Harry’s house. And, then she’d forgotten the timer. By the time she’d scrambled over to the oven, the time they’d been cooking had doubled.</p><p>“If you hadn’t scared me, they’d not be on the floor,” Alice finally countered. But she couldn’t stop the tears through the giggling. “Kitty-”</p><p>“Burnt cookies are no better on a plate than on the floor!”</p><p>Alice nodded, forcing herself not to smile. She nodded. “Right, right. Of course. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Silence fell. Then Alice snorted, unable to hold back her giggles, and Kitty followed suit. After a sigh amidst her laughing, she bent down and she and Alice got to work picking up the shattered crispy cookies. </p><p>“For heavens’ sakes,” sighed Kitty. But she smiled as they dumped the crumbs into the trash. “Now we'll have to start from scratch!”</p><p>A knock on the front door made them pause. Harry, Nix, and Blanche had gone out somewhere, Alice wasn’t quite sure where. As Kitty went down the hall to see who it was, Alice stayed behind and tried to get the counters cleaned up a bit more. The cherry-red and white apron that Kitty had lent her already had stains of all sorts on it from their cooking but that didn’t mean the kitchen had to stay that way.</p><p>Even as she heard Kitty at opening the door, she tried to stop the giggling fit that returned. The absurdity of it all, the completely black cookie crisps that had spilled over the floor, her own racing heart when Kitty had bounded into the kitchen, the way the tray had catapulted into the air. At first, she’d been scared to death at the loud band that Kitty had made with a couple of pots, but upon realizing it was not a grenade, she’d sheepishly stared at the failed cookies. And then she couldn’t stop the laughter.</p><p>“Let me guess. Mr. Dick-”</p><p>Winters. Alice froze. As soon as he answered Kitty, she dropped the cloth she’d been using and scuttled into the hall. Dick Winters, dressed to the nines, hair neatly done and clean-shaven as he’d been all war, stood in the foyer with Kitty. “Dick!”</p><p>He glanced past Kitty and grinned. Wasting no time, Alice hurried down the hall and grabbed him in a hug. Her bright laughter subsided, replaced more by chuckles of disbelief. It’d only been a few months, but it felt like a lifetime since she’d seen him. </p><p>“Alice. How are you?” He looked her up and down. Then he turned back to Kitty, also standing in her dirtied apron and her hair tousled. “Baking?”</p><p>“I’ve been baking quite well. Alice on the other hand? She needs some help.”</p><p>“Hey!” She turned to Kitty. “Don’t leave me with a book if you don’t want me to read the book!”</p><p>Kitty just chuckled. “Read the book between taking the cookies out.”</p><p>With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Alice turned back to Dick. “Turns out Nix may be better at this than I am. But if you tell him, I’ll kill you.”</p><p>“Is this secret intelligence?” The smirk Dick shot her was barely perceptible but when Alice laughed, it widened. “Where are they?” he asked, turning back to Kitty.</p><p>“Top Secret,” Kitty told him. “Not quite sure. Harry dragged them out to town. He left us in charge here.”</p><p>They moved into the kitchen, Dick setting his coat on the back of a chair. Wincing, Alice watched him taking in the chaotic scene of the baking area. But he just looked at her and shook his head. She decided that was a win.</p><p>“Don’t judge me Dick.”</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>Alice just scoffed. “Don’t give me that look. You just act like you don’t judge. You can be as petty as the rest of us.”</p><p>That had Dick laughing. With a smile, Kitty picked her way over to get him a glass of water. She set it in front of him at the table. Then she joined him. “So, the famous Major Dick Winters. Harry’s told me all about you.”</p><p>Alice laughed at the subtle way his eyebrows raised and mouth straightened just a bit. As she finished working away at the layer of cookie dough, she shook her head. “You’ll give him a heart attack with that, Kitty.”</p><p>“Oh! I meant it only in a good way,” she assured him. “Harry said you were the best of all of you, that you kept the men together.”</p><p>Dick attempted a smile. He shook his head, and for a moment didn’t speak. Alice knew that look. Nix got that expression sometimes. She did as well. That was remembering. Clearly Kitty had seen it in Harry before, because she apologized. </p><p>“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you all,” she added. Kitty sighed and shook her head, wringing her hands for a moment. “I don’t mean to make it worse.”</p><p>Alice exchanged a glance with Dick. Then she turned back to Kitty. “It’s not your fault.” With a sigh, Alice placed the dirtied rag onto the counter and joined them at the wood table but didn’t sit. For a moment, she just stood. “I’m gonna go grab a smoke. Think you can hold down the fort, Kitty?”</p><p>“Of course I can,” she huffed. Pushing her chair back, Kitty stood up and went to finish up the cleaning. They’d have to go without cookies. “Dick, is there anything I can get you?”</p><p>“No, thank you.” </p><p>After digging through her coat pocket for her pack of cigarettes, she turned to Dick. “Care to join, for old times’ sake?”</p><p>He just scoffed, but followed her outside onto the front porch. The cold struck them hard, like a slap in the face. Grey clouds hung in the sky, covering all the crisp blue of the day before. The newspaper had mentioned snow. But Alice had just hoped it would pass them by. Apparently no such luck, as not a few moments after she’d considered the thought, the snowflakes started falling, tiny in the air.</p><p>She fought with her lighter as Dick stood silent next to her. It took a few tries before the flame sparked to life. The momentary heat, however small, made her feel a bit better. She took a long drag of the smoke as she flipped it closed and put the lighter away.</p><p>“I used to like snow,” Dick murmured. </p><p>With a frown, Alice turned and looked up at him. She took the cigarette from her mouth, releasing a cloud of smoke and hot breath. “Yeah. Me too.”</p><p>Silence reigned for a bit longer. The snow, even as light as it was, seemed to suck the energy from the air. A few cars passed by, but mostly the world just stayed still. No wind, no birds, no squirrels. Just a silent cold.</p><p>“How’s your family?” Alice finally asked. She turned to him again, blowing the smoke away first. “Ann’s doing well?”</p><p>At his sister’s name he smiled a bit. “They’re all fine. Sad that I’m leaving to head to work for Lew,” he admitted with a bit of a laugh. </p><p>Alice couldn’t help but smile. They’d planned it a month ago; after the wedding, Dick and Nix would head back across the state to Nixon, New Jersey in the former’s car, and she would take the other one to visit Philadelphia. First stop, Raph Spina’s place, and then Bill, and then Babe. She’d not contacted Bill directly, but had had Babe do a bit of reconnaissance on the man. She wanted to surprise him. </p><p>“Is Ethel going to come to Nixon,” she prodded.</p><p>At the name of his sweetheart, Dick just rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Not yet.”</p><p>Alice laughed. She took another long drag of her cigarette. In the quiet cold, the warmth of the smoke did wonders for her. The small buzz it sent through her system calmed her down a bit, too. She’d been doing her utmost to stick to Gene’s regiment of no more than two a day.</p><p>“Have you two picked a wedding date yet?” Dick asked. </p><p>The question broke the silence, startling her a bit. She looked at him and shook her head. “No.” She sighed. “We can’t decide what to do. Stanhope is being a bit of a problem.”</p><p>Dick scoffed. “I’m not surprised, after what Nix has said.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>The silence that fell between them broke as a car passed down the street. Alice smiled. They’d gotten back. Dropping her nearly finished cigarette onto the concrete, she smashed it beneath her heel. It parked, and she glanced at Dick. “Speak of the devil.”</p><p>The car doors swung open and Nix and Harry scrambled out. Behind them, Blanche followed more slowly. As the men hurried up the path, Alice couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head.</p><p>“There he is. Our resident Puritan,” Nix heckled.</p><p>Grins all around. Harry and Nix crossed the yard to where Dick stood smiling. Alice couldn’t help but watch them. Seeing them happy, it made her happy. She stuck her hands in her pockets and reveled in their banter. Soon, however, her gaze drifted to Blanche. The way the woman watched them, it concerned her. She looked almost forlorn. The fact that Blanche really didn’t have a family like these men had become, it made Alice sad too.</p><p>Forgetting the boys, she moved over to her. Blanche looked up and forced a bright smile. “How’d baking go?” she asked.</p><p>Alice let out one short laugh. “You don’t wanna know. Just don’t tell your brother that he may be a better cook than me, too.”</p><p>Her grin grew, becoming more genuine. “Then I’m in good company, I suppose.”</p><p>She and Blanche watched the men. Harry and Nix cracked up over something, likely at Dick’s expense because the man just stood there shaking his head as he’d done many times. It took a little while before they seemed to remember that Alice and Blanche even existed.  Alice made sure to send Nix a pointed stare when he looked their way.</p><p>“Dick, this is Blanche, my beautiful and intelligent and terrible cook sister,” he said. At her eye roll, he turned back to Dick. “Blanche, meet Dick. He’s-”</p><p>“The only reason you’re alive?” Alice supplied. </p><p>Harry just laughed. “You helped.”</p><p>With Blanche next to her, they rejoined the guys. Dick and Blanche shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Before long, Harry complained about the cold and they all moved inside. Kitty had set out plates with cheese and crackers on the table. They still had a couple of hours until dinner.</p><p>“It’s about time you all moved back in here,” she scolded them. “You’ll catch a cold if you’re out there too long!”</p><p>All of them laughed, except Alice. Her breathing suddenly tightened. Even the thought of an illness affected her. Alice hated it. But she couldn’t keep from scrutinizing every breath of air even as they sat in the warm kitchen. </p><p>As the day wore on, and the men started catching up, Blanche and Kitty took some time to look over the latter’s wedding plans. Dinner came and went, and Kitty drove back to her parents’ home. Still, Alice found herself wrapped in her own thoughts. Dick, Nix, and Harry were endless. Blanche retired to bed fairly early as had become her custom.</p><p>At close to ten, Alice stepped outside for another smoke. They’d decided Dick would share Harry’s room, just like they’d done in Aldbourne. As they got him situated, she just stood on the porch, freezing in the night air. The cold had dipped so low, it felt reminiscent of the Ardennes.</p><p>It even smelled like the Ardennes. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the sharp crispness of the frozen night, it just smelled like winter. And winter, to her, meant Bastogne. Fear shot through her. It made her palms sweat, her body tense. Skip and Alex’s death had been a year ago from two weeks before. She could feel tears forming in her eyes. They stung.</p><p>She inhaled as deep a drag of smoke as she could. The streetlamps along the road illuminated the small flakes that had started to fall yet again. She shivered. A small breeze picked up. It made her nose run, and face freeze. Alice forced down her rising panic.</p><p>Alice flinched back at the door behind her as it snapped closed. She whipped around and found Nix bundled in a coat, looking decidedly apologetic. With a strained smile, she took the cigarette from her mouth and released a cloud of smoke.</p><p>“You okay?” He looked at her closer, standing beside her and taking his own cigarette out. His hands shook in the cold as he lit it. “You seemed out of it for most of the night.”</p><p>Alice sighed. “It’s just a lot.” Her throat hurt as she tried to force down tears. “It’s a lot.”</p><p>When Nix pulled her into a hug, she flinched again. Sometimes her flinching at touches embarrassed her, but with Nix, she knew he understood. Or, though he couldn’t quite understand the jumpiness, accepted it anyways. His coat had chilled in the night air, but it didn’t take long for his body heat to radiate through to her. It helped her calm down.</p><p>“You know who gets here tomorrow, don’t you?” Nix murmured as they stood in the cold. “Not sure why Harry invited him. He’s such a pain in the ass.”</p><p>Alice broke into a grin, laughing into his coat. “Stop being mean to Ron. It’s not nice.”</p><p>“But it’s tradition.”</p><p>Tradition. Her smile grew. In the cold, with Nix, it felt a little less scary. She couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that one constant had remained since Bastogne that wasn’t terrible: hanging and cuddling with Nix in the cold. It was like sitting in a foxhole, but less of a waking nightmare.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>As Alice got out of the car, the wind hit her in the face causing her to shrink back. But Kitty’s enthusiasm as she danced in place on the sidewalk to try to stay warm forced her to get over the fear of the cold and join her and Blanche. She closed her driver’s side door with a thud.</p><p>“It’s cute,” Blanche told Kitty. “I like the white.”</p><p>They’d bundled into the Nixon car after breakfast. The destination: St. Ignatius church, on the other end of the city where Kitty and Harry had planned their wedding for Saturday. Alice had to admit Blanche was right. The three sets of dark, heavy doors sat in contrast against white stone, including expertly sculpted tympana. It looked like a more modern attempt at Gothic. </p><p>“Isn’t it gorgeous!” Kitty grinned. “Come on!”</p><p>Alice laughed as she moved next to Blanche. Sparing her a side glance, she grinned to see Blanche watching Kitty hurry forward with the same amusement. They followed. Kitty moved to the stairs up on the right, bounding forward like a small puppy. The other two followed more slowly.</p><p>“Have you and Lew talked about weddings much?” Blanche asked her. She glanced over at Alice. “Not to rush you, of course. But my mom was talking about it before I came east again.”</p><p>With a small shake of her head, Alice shot her a smile. “Talked about it? Several times. We always come to the same conclusion: we have no idea what we should do.”</p><p>“You should just get married,” Blanche argued.</p><p>They hit the top step together, shoes hitting the concrete as one. The door had already started closing behind Kitty and Blanche caught it just before it slammed shut. Alice went in first, and Blanche behind. The vestibule space was small. Quiet, peaceful.</p><p>To the left, a small wood table with some rosaries and prayer cards, and to the right, Alice found a painting of what she guessed to be Mary. A pretty woman, if a bit sad. Alice followed Blanche after Kitty into the main space of the church.</p><p>Small. That was the first word to come to her mind. The walls inside were a pale cream color, with some stained glass windows. Maybe a hundred people would’ve fit inside, packed close together. At the front an altar had two candles to either side, and behind it on the wall hung a massive crucifix.</p><p>
  <em>“Roster count. We lost well over half the men in Bastogne. We’re down to sixty-three.”</em>
</p><p>The candles, the crucifix. Alice froze. Memories crashed into her, of Ron and Lip and George, of Foy and Rachamps.</p><p>Her chest tightened. The cold held a tight grip on her. A death grip. Tears filled her eyes. She could almost see them there, the living and the dead. Skip had always carried a rosary. Skip had always prayed. She’d been like Jeanne d’Arc, or so he’d teased. </p><p>The candles, the crucifix, the rosaries. She could all but hear the angelic choir. Her throat tightened, trying to hold back tears. But all it did was cause her to cough.</p><p>Alice would have screamed if she'd known it wouldn’t have alerted half the town. Instead, she turned tail and hurried out the door. Her hands shook as she grabbed the door to the outside and thrust it open. Frigid air choked her.</p><p>She sped down the steps. Her heels clicked against the concrete. When she at last reached the car, she unlocked it and slipped inside. Alice couldn’t hold back her tears much longer. But she couldn’t let her makeup run. She couldn’t ruin Kitty’s wedding. She couldn’t do this, not here and not now.</p><p>In through the nose, out through the mouth. That’s how Gene had taught her. Letting her head rest against the seat, she tried to practice it. Relax. Alice couldn’t let the fear control her. But then the faces of Skip and Alex and Bill and Joe took over her mind and made it worse. </p><p>
  <em>“Jesus Christ, Alice. Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?”</em>
</p><p>Alice shuddered. Had Ron been right? At the time, she’d rolled her eyes. But then, she’d neglected herself for a long time. Maybe if some German had taken the shot, she’d have been grateful. It seemed odd, now. A year later, the prospect of living was less scary than dying. For a while, it had been the other way around.</p><p>A tap on the window made her turn. Blanche’s rich brown hair fell about her shoulders. Once Alice shot her a small smile, the woman opened the passenger door and slipped inside.</p><p>“You ran out of there at top speed,” Blanche commented. “I’ll skip the useless question of ‘are you okay’ because the answer’s no. So what made you upset?”</p><p>Alice had to appreciate the woman’s frankness. It reminded her of Nix, but so totally opposite as well. Where Nix would play little games to get truths out, Blanche just asked. But both didn’t give up.</p><p>“It’s hard to explain,” Alice admitted. She ran a hand through her hair, and then rubbed the side of her neck for a moment. “The last Christian church I was in… I don’t particularly want to think about it.”</p><p>Blanche nodded. They sat in silence for several minutes. Only Alice’s faltering breaths made any noise. Alice hoped that Blanche had let Kitty know they’d be outside; she didn’t want her to worry. </p><p>“What you saw, what you did in Europe,” Blanche started, “I can’t understand it. But there’s not a doubt in my mind, especially now that I know you, that you did your best.” Turning her head to look at Alice, she shot her a small smile. “Alice, you’re fantastic. My brother adores you. My mom likes you. I hope… I hope you like you.”</p><p>Her breath caught. Tears were in Blanche’s eyes, but they never fell. Alice grabbed her hand. Hers was cold, shockingly so. But Alice refused to let go. Even as the other woman closed her eyes, Alice’s own scrunched up with unbidden tears. She looked down at the clutch.</p><p>It took another five minutes for them to calm down. More specifically, five minutes for Alice to regain composure and entertain the idea of going back inside. But Kitty was their priority that day, no matter what. </p><p>Unfortunately, even as Alice stood at the base of the stairs, she couldn’t force herself up them. Blanche looked at her with pity. Alice sighed. “Go on in. I’m gonna smoke, and then I’ll… well, I’ll try to come up.”</p><p>Blanche nodded. Before long, Alice found herself standing alone at the sidewalk. The area barely had anything but a parking lot and a few residential houses. So she stood alone. </p><p>Wrestling a cigarette from her pack in her purse, she desperately tried to light it. But the flame of her lighter kept flickering away in the wind. She grunted in anger when it finally caught. A bit of warmth in the cold, and a bit of comfort in despair. Still, Gene’s scolding never left her mind. She had to watch herself.</p><p>Twenty minutes later, her cigarette had long died and she still stood alone. Alice didn’t mind it though. Her thoughts had become too chaotic, too upsetting. She didn’t want to be with Kitty, bouncing off the walls, however appropriate that was. </p><p>“You look like shit.”</p><p>Alice straightened up. Ron Speirs, cigarette between his lips, strode over to her like nothing was out of the ordinary. She nearly laughed. “Ron!” Hurrying over to him, Alice grabbed him in a hug. She started tearing up again. “Goddamnit.” When she drew back, she wiped at her cheeks and shook her head. “Goddamnit Ron. Sneaking up on me?”</p><p>“I wasn’t sneaking. Apparently you’ve lost your touch,” he argued. “I called Harry. He said to meet them here.”</p><p>She nodded. “They’re supposed to be here soon.” Glancing at her watch, she nodded again, as if to reassure herself. “Kitty’s inside, and Nix’s sister Blanche, if you want to meet them.”</p><p>“So, what are you doing out here?” he looked around. They’d moved back over to the wall in front of the church between the two sets of stairs up. He watched her wrestle a cigarette.</p><p>Sighing, she turned to him. He looked good. Clean-shaven, put together, but more reserved than she remembered him. The war hadn’t skipped Ron Speirs, evidently. “Do I really look bad?”</p><p>That made him crack a smile. He shook his head. “You look stressed.”</p><p>For a few minutes, they stood in silence, smoking together. Only after did Alice find the courage to speak again. “The church reminds me of Rachamps.” At first, she couldn’t look at him. </p><p>When she did, he just watched her and then turned back to the church building. More silence, and then he nodded. “Then let’s go in.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You’re going to have to be in there for the wedding,” he reminded her. “I’m guessing you don’t want to run out of there on their wedding day.”</p><p>With a huff, she turned from Ron to the stairs at their left. He was right of course. He was always right. Really, it was infuriating. Without waiting for him, she dropped her second cigarette and hurried to the stairs. If Ron could do it, she could do it. </p><p>Alice halted at the doors. They were dark metal, covered in rivets. The handle burned her bare skin from the cold. But she pulled it open anyways.</p><p>The scent of burning incense and candles hit her again. Someone had started at the piano. But Ron moved past her, so she followed. They took in the scene together, the quiet peace of the sanctuary contrasting the fear that gripped her heart. She wondered, briefly, if Ron felt the same.</p><p>If he did, he didn’t show it. Not a surprise. Alice stood beside him a few feet inside past the vestibule. She saw Kitty at the front, chatting with a priest, Blanche beside her. Even as shivers crept up her spine at the eeriness of being back in a church, the women turned her way. Blanche’s smile fell a bit at the sight of Ron, but Kitty just waved and turned back to her conversation.</p><p>“Ok, so the brunette, that’s Nix’s sister Blanche. The other one is Kitty Grogan,” Alice told him. </p><p>But just as they went to move further into the church, the doors behind them opened again. Nix, Harry, and Dick wandered in, the first drinking from his silver flask. They all paused.</p><p>“There he is,” Nix said, laughing. </p><p>A woman at a side altar hissed at him to be quiet. Alice had to hide her smirk. It didn’t take long for Ron to shake hands with the other three men. They all moved back into the vestibule.</p><p>“Glad you could make it,” Harry told him. With a grin, he gestured back through the door that Alice had just moved away from. “Did you meet her yet?”</p><p>“No.” Ron shook his head. “Alice was about to introduce me. It’s a nice church though.”</p><p>“Yeah, we like it,” Harry agreed. “Come-”</p><p>Kitty opening the door interrupted him. She walked into the vestibule, Blanche in toe, grinning from ear to ear. Next to Alice, she looked at Ron and then Harry.</p><p>“Kitty, this is Captain Ron Speirs, Ron, this is Kitty.”</p><p>“So nice to meet you!” Kitty took his hand. “I’m sorry you had to put up with my fiance for so long. Truly tough circumstances.</p><p>As they all chuckled, Ron shook his head and turned to Blanche. “You must be Nixon’s sister?”</p><p>She nodded, forcing a smile. “Blanche Nixon. It’s a pleasure.”</p><p>Not for the first time, Alice had to marvel at the poise and grace Blanche managed to hold herself with. Her smile could kill, and she could put it to use whenever she saw fit. But Alice knew she didn’t feel it. She could tell, like the way in the car she’d been so close to tears. A victim of her own war, perhaps.</p><p>That night, when Kitty had returned to her house, Blanche volunteered to spend the night there to let the men have a night together. Even as the former officers sat together at Harry’s wooden table, Alice watched Kitty’s car roll down the road from the front window. They were an odd pair. Blanche, a little hurt and a little sad, and Kitty, exuberant and effortlessly kind, but both struggling to understand the broken people who had come home.</p><p>She smelled Nix’s cologne as he moved in the dark to stand next to her at the window. He didn’t say anything at first, but she could hear the movement of his flask as he took a drink. Blanche’s words from earlier rang in her ears. I hope you like you, she said. </p><p>Alice turned left. The light from down the hall spilled only a little into the living room. A gentle snow had started to fall outside. But Nix was there. He loved her. She knew that. </p><p>“Blanche was worried about you,” he said, trying to keep his voice low. No mirth, just concern. </p><p>Alice shook her head. She flashed a tiny smile. “Rachamps,” she said.</p><p>“Ah.”</p><p>“I miss them.” Her voice trembled. “I didn’t expect to, not this much. But whenever it snows I think of Skip and Alex. Every damn time.” She tried to wipe away the tears that flowed without her permission. </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>That was all he could say. Alice knew. She didn’t expect more. But when he pressed a soft, gentle kiss on her lips and she could taste her own tears, Alice just shuddered. He was warm. Unlike the snow, unlike pews in a church, unlike the night outside the window. When she pulled away from the kiss after a few moments, she wiped her eyes again.</p><p>“Are you setting up poker?” she asked.</p><p>Nix smirked. “Always. Not sure we want you to play though, given your luck.”</p><p>She refused to give him anything more than a laugh. Instead, she just moved past him down the hall to the dining table in the kitchen. Dick and Harry and Ron, all three of them, sat chatting quietly. They weren’t in ODs, or Ike jackets, but it was still them. They’d always be there. She had to believe that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>January 26, 1946</strong>
</p><p>When Alice rolled out of bed on Saturday morning, she could already hear bustling about in the kitchen below. Nix still slept soundly on her right. The rise and fall of his chest made her smile. He really could sleep through anything. It was remarkable.</p><p>A knock at the door had woken her. When it sounded again, Alice sighed and started to get dressed. Kitty was spending the morning with her bridesmaids. Alice had the responsibility of making sure the men all got themselves presentable on time. Once she’d pulled out a house dress to wear until later, she stood staring at Nixon. </p><p>Alice grabbed her pillow. In a moment of impulse, she smacked his side. He rolled over, cursing, and sat up a bit. Alice laughed as he rubbed his eyes.</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “What was that for!”</p><p>She couldn’t help but snicker. “Nix. It’s the wedding day. You need to get up and help me make sure everyone else is ready.” As he rolled his eyes, she clambered back on the bed and wrapped her arm around his shoulder and over his chest. “Come on. For me?”</p><p>“For you?” He rolled his eyes. “No. For Harry? Fine.”</p><p>Alice laughed. “Whatever you say. As long as you say it while getting dressed.” Just as she went to leave, he grabbed her arm and kissed her. Alice startled and laughed as she pulled away and dodged him. “Up!”<br/>
As she left the bedroom, she found Dick heading down the stairs. The voices from earlier had gotten louder. When she reached the floor, her shoes adding a note of finality, she stopped. Now she understood the knocking.</p><p>“Buck!”</p><p>The man turned around and grinned. Alice hurried over and hugged him. It made her feel a bit better, that this time seeing him didn’t trigger horrible memories like in Austria. A few uneasy emotions, perhaps, but nothing to keep her from enjoying the moment. </p><p>“Alice you look great!” Buck looked her up and down. “Nixon’s here too?”</p><p>At his question, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes. He’s upstairs, probably still moping.”</p><p>“Moping?” Harry asked. He walked in from the kitchen, followed quickly by Dick. “What’s he moping about?”</p><p>“I hit him with a pillow.”</p><p>All three of them burst out laughing. But Alice could smell bacon and sausage, and so she pushed through them down the hall into the kitchen. Food scraps lay around, half-eaten scrambled eggs and a few pancakes. </p><p>“This looks good. Who made it?” She moved over to the kitchen itself and started scooping eggs and bacon onto a plate. “Let me guess. Harry?”</p><p>“I can cook too,” Dick protested.</p><p>Alice just laughed. “I’m sure you can.”</p><p>It had been Harry. She could tell as soon as she tasted the hint of whiskey in the coffee. She just shot him a smirk, and he a knowing smile back. It didn’t take long before she’d sat down at the table and started chatting with Buck, who told her all about his time back home. They didn’t discuss Bastogne, there was no need, but she could tell by the way they all clammed up around discussion of the holidays that it had taken its toll. She knew it had on her.</p><p>“So, you and Nix?” Buck prodded. “When it’s happening?”</p><p>Alice shot him a smile and shook her head. Diverting her gaze, she found her coffee extremely interesting. “We don’t know.” Honestly, she wished people would stop asking. But she couldn’t say that, not to the men who were like family to her. “We’re working on it.”</p><p>“Buck Compton, always showing up right before the big day.”</p><p>They all turned to see Nixon, looking only a bit bedraggled, waltz into the kitchen. He exchanged a quick glance with Alice. She knew he had heard the question. Alice didn’t doubt he’d made his presence known to stop any further prying. </p><p>“Lewis Nixon, always half asleep,” Buck countered, laughing. He stood from the table and Nix’s hand. Then he sat back down. “Now all we’re missing are Speirs and Lip.”</p><p>“They’ll be here,” Alice assured him. Then she stood up and smiled. “I’m going for a smoke. I’ll watch for them.”</p><p>Leaving Nixon to talk to Dick, Buck, and Harry, she hurried to the door and grabbed her coat. Blanche was still upstairs? She looked up the staircase. Then she shrugged and moved outside. Alice nearly laughed when she found Ron and Lip standing in the cold, the former smoking.</p><p>“Carwood Lipton! You’re here and you didn’t come inside?” </p><p>The man in question whipped around, Ron following suit. He laughed as she barreled into him. “Good to see you, Alice.”</p><p>“Yeah, you too. How long have you two been out here?”</p><p>“Not long,” Ron said. “What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?”</p><p>They both laughed. But Alice just shook her head. “Buck’s inside. He was complaining about you still owing him a pack of smokes?”</p><p>The grin on Ron’s face made her pause. Clearly he understood, because he said absolutely nothing in response. Lipton just shook his head ever so slightly. </p><p>“Clearly I’m out of the loop for this.” She took a deep breath of the smoke from her cigarette and shook her head. “You always were a bit crazy, Ron.”</p><p>“Not my fault you’re all slow,” he countered.</p><p>Alice laughed. “Slow? Harry beat you in your first encounter, didn’t he? Mr. Dog Company.”</p><p>Lipton hid a laugh with a cough. Beside him, Ron took his cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled. After a moment of silence, he said, “Low blow.”</p><p>“Get inside,” she teased. </p><p>As they picked their way past, Alice squeezed Lip’s arm and smiled at him. It was good to see him again. The air had gotten crisper, just as cold but not as damp. It made things a little easier. Alice did her best to enjoy her last few minutes with the smoke and the quiet.</p><p>When she set foot inside, she found the men laughing and joking, Buck heckling Ron over something and the latter not entirely amused. But it didn’t take long to realize Blanche still hadn’t made an appearance. Alice looked at the clock. Almost nine. They needed to be at the church by eleven at the latest. Sparing one more glance up the stairs, she hurried into the kitchen.</p><p>“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, obviously not at all sorry, “but you all need to get ready. Now.”</p><p>She didn’t even wait for a response. Turning tail, she hurried down the hall and back up the stairs. She and Blanche both were bridesmaids, Nix her matching groomsman and Dick for Blanche. They had work to do. She needed to do her hair, and her makeup, and corral nearly half a dozen men into understanding how serious to take the prep work.</p><p>“Blanche!” Alice knocked on the door. She heard no response. With a frown, Alice knocked again, and then went inside. She found the woman sitting on the bed, tears streaking down her face. Alice closed the door behind herself quickly. “Blanche. What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I’m fine!” Blanche insisted. She got up from the bed, shaking her head when Alice tried to walk over to her. “Alice I’m fine.”</p><p>“Do you want me to get your brother?” she asked.</p><p>But Blanche shook her head vigorously. “No! No. He’s got enough problems, Alice. You both do. You all do. Nothing bad has happened to me. I don’t have a right to feel this way,” she argued. “It’s stupid! I’m a Nixon. I’m better than this.”</p><p>Alice’s heart broke. “Well. It’s not your fault,” she said. “Blanche, trust me. It’s not your fault.”</p><p>“Yeah, you can keep saying that.” Blanche shook her head. “I’ve got to get to work on making myself presentable. Make sure Lew does the same for me. He often doesn’t care enough, and then we all get the judgement.”</p><p>The bitterness in Blanche’s voice surprised her. But she just nodded, taking a last look as the woman moved to the mirror on the vanity and started brushing her hair. “Alright. Well. Get me if you need something, okay?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Of course. Alice wasn’t so sure she believed Blanche as she shut the door on her way out. But it couldn’t be helped right then. Kitty’s wedding wasn’t far off, and then the reception, and then she’d be on her way to Philadelphia.</p><p>Kitty had warned her that the wedding took place within a Catholic mass. Seeing as she didn’t speak Latin, only knew bits and pieces from her education, that wouldn’t make any sense to her. But the marriage itself, that would be English. And English, she knew it well. </p><p>As Alice pulled on her sky blue satin bridesmaid dress, she looked at herself in the mirror. She felt thankful for the long sleeves; It would hide her scars. The one across her cheek had mostly faded but the two on her left, her shoulder, and her arm, they showed ugly in the light. Nix always told her they weren’t ugly, but she knew they’d be hard to explain to anyone. And she didn’t have the energy for that, not now and not ever.</p><p>First, Alice worked at her hair. As she curled it, Nix came inside to change as well. They talked a bit, neither saying much. But when Alice finished with her hair and turned to him, he just sighed. Nix sat at the foot of the bed tying his shoes. </p><p>“Why don’t we just… get married,” Nix said.</p><p>Alice stopped. She’d been grabbing her bag of makeup. “What? Now?”</p><p>“Not now,” Nix laughed. “That’d really crush Harry. Us get married on his own wedding day.” When he saw her roll her eyes, he just smirked and took a drink. “No, I mean… Why should we make it a big production? If we do, the tabloids will be all over us. New York, New Jersey, San Francisco. Everyone.”</p><p>“So, what. We run off to England, say our vows, and pray they count that as a legal marriage?” Alice thought he was crazy. But saying it out loud, it made her smile. “Throw caution to the wind? Forget your name? Become wanderers.”</p><p>He scoffed. “No. I need the name to get the whiskey, remember?” </p><p>Nix walked over to her, putting his hands around her waist. Leaning forward, she kissed him. They really did need to decide what to do. But standing there in that embrace, that was enough for now. </p><p>“How about this.” Nix worked his way to her neck. “After the wedding. After you visit Philly. We run away for a day and get married.”</p><p>Alice took a deep breath. She had to suppress a groan. “Goddamnit.” Pushing him off, she stood back. “I need to get ready! Stop that!”</p><p>Nix just laughed. “Yes or no?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Good. Don’t tell anyone though,” he added. With a smirk, he moved to the door. “They’ll all be jealous.”</p><p>She just laughed. “Can’t have that,” she sassed. “Come on. Go make sure Ron and Buck haven’t killed each other yet. Red’s a hard stain to get out, and I bet none of you know where to start with it.”</p><p>It didn’t take too much longer for Alice to get herself ready. Once she’d gotten the makeup done and shoes on, she’d padded down the hall to find Blanche. The woman’s room stood empty. Alice took it as a good sign. </p><p>She found them all in the hallway. It was nearly time to go. While Nix and Dick moved the suitcases into the car, she and Blanche stood outside, trying to keep from shivering. Ron wore his dress uniform, and the others their finest suits. They looked wonderful.</p><p>Yesterday, Alice had laughed when in the practice, the other two bridesmaids had done nothing but giggle about Dick and Nixon. Evidently they were more attractive than the average man at the wedding rehearsal. Nixon had shut it down real quick but winking at one and then kissing Alice dramatically, but Dick was left on his own. Boy were they in for a surprise when Ron, Buck, and Lip showed up as well.</p><p>“You have good friends, Alice,” Blanche told her. She kept her voice low as they stood off a bit apart from the men. “They really like you.”</p><p>Alice smiled a bit. “We went through a lot together. That made us close, like family. They are my family.”</p><p>Blanche nodded. “I can see that. It’s nice. Don’t ever forget how lucky that is.”</p><p>She didn’t have a response. Blanche was right, of course. It had taken Alice a long time to realize how lucky she’d been to come home from the war with family after losing her own. Many men came home to a world foreign to them, left without the brothers they’d made. And looking at Harry, grinning and bouncing off the walls, Nixon sneaking him a drink of whiskey after the man had had his own confiscated, she loved it. She cherished it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm working on one-shot number 5(?) right now! Can't wait to upload it for you all. Thanks for reading.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even understanding none of what was said, watching the pure joy on Harry and Kitty’s faces as they kissed made Alice cry. She held it in as much as she could. But Nix had looked at her, and then she smiled, and after that, Alice could only cry. After nearly four years with some of these men, seeing such pure goodness enfold before her moved her to tears.</p><p>The rest of the catholic mass had passed in a blur. With her knowledge of French, she caught a few phrases she could sort of decipher, but the Latin eluded her. Instead, she just sat gripping Nix’s hand for dear life.</p><p>When the organ played the song for the end of the mass, Alice and Nix stood to follow out Harry and Kitty. Alice put her arm through his, content to feel the presence of the man she loved, and knew that Nix had been absolutely right that morning; they should get married on their terms, and soon. </p><p>Blanche and Dick went ahead of them down the aisle. When they got out front, Harry and Kitty were grinning from ear to ear. Alice marveled again at the beautiful white lace and parachute silk dress Kitty had worn. But the grin spreading from ear to ear on her face was even more beautiful. While the other two bridesmaids, Kitty’s best friends, swarmed her, Alice moved over to Harry. He had tears in his eyes.</p><p>Pulling him into a hug, she tried to suppress her own tears. “Congratulations.” Neither of them moved for a few moments. But when she pulled back, she wiped away several tears and shook her head. “Sometimes I thought we’d never see the day.”</p><p>Harry nodded. “Too many times.”</p><p>Nix and Dick were next, and Alice moved away where she saw Blanche on the outskirts. Lunch would be held at the reception near the hotel down the street from the church. Until then, they stood in the cold while the newlyweds were congratulated. </p><p>“Are you feeling any better?” Alice asked, keeping her voice low.</p><p>Blanche just smiled. “Yeah. I’m fine.” </p><p>With a nod, they watched the scene unfold. They’d briefly met the Welshes and the Grogans before the ceremony, kind people, both families Irish. Watching Mr. Welsh grab Kitty in a bear-sized hug made Alice chuckle.</p><p>“Jesus Christ it’s cold,” Nix muttered. “Should we head over?”</p><p>Alice smiled, hooking arms dramatically with Nix. “Why yes, we should. Blanche? Coming?”</p><p>The woman laughed at them but nodded. All three of them, Dick soon joining, walked the ways down the street to the hotel. It didn’t take long to be directed to the ballroom. <br/>
When they got inside they found it styled with blue and white decor. A big band stood at one end of the hall, already starting on jazz music to set the tone. Alice couldn’t help but grin again. </p><p>One of the hotel workers took her coat. In the warmth, she tried to let it soothe her slight nerves at the way the walk over and increased her breathing issues. It wasn’t pneumonia, it was just slight breathing troubles. Just the cold. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Nix asked her, voice low. He placed a hand on her lower back. “You’re doing it again.”</p><p>Alice looked down. She’d crossed her arms over her chest. With an internal groan, she let her arms fall to her side. “I’m okay. Let’s find our seats.”</p><p>She, Blanche, Nix, Dick, Ron, Lip, and Buck had all been given one table. Alice couldn’t help but smile at how nice it was that Kitty had allowed them to sit with their war buddies, not the rest of the bridal party. They were family, after all. She wanted to sit with her family.</p><p>Most of the afternoon passed in a bit of a blur of excitement and pride. They’d had lunch with a delicacy of chicken. Alice couldn’t help but wonder if Nix had offered some of his wealth to get them that. After lunch, there’d been some mingling where Kitty made sure to speak to everyone. Mostly Alice tried to chat with Blanche, painfully aware of how out of place the young woman must’ve felt. </p><p>There had been quite a bit of dancing. Alice had had two glasses of wine by the time the band started, and she and Nix took the floor. They stayed away from the swing, as felt a bit too tired to have a go at that, but when Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade started, she’d let him drag into the fray.</p><p>“I feel like I owe you a dance,” he said. </p><p>Alice put her hands around his neck. “Oh? Why’s that?”</p><p>As they moved to the tune, surrounded by other couples, he just smirked. “Well, you gave me our first dance off a New Year’s promise. Just feels right I return the favor in the first year after the war.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head, blushing. The fact that he remembered that dance as much as she often thought about it made her ecstatic. “Well. I’m happy to oblige.” As the music kept going and they just enjoyed each other’s company, she started thinking about that day. “I think I knew I was falling for you back then, you know.”</p><p>Nix started snickering. Only when she smacked his arm did he stop. “Well, I’m glad I cashed in on that dance then. I was able to drive you crazy, I’m sure. Handsome, well educated First Lieutenant-”</p><p>“Arrogant, somewhat presumptuous, nosey-”</p><p>“Yale graduate with money!”</p><p>Alice laughed again and shook her head. As she looked at him, his eyes the same color as Marc’s, for a moment she liked to think that her family would be blessing this future marriage. Her brothers probably would’ve given Nix a good verbal thrashing. She supposed it was better they never met, and giggled at the thought.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I was just thinking how Marc and Robert especially would have a field day making your life hell.”</p><p>“Ah yes, Marc and Robert.” </p><p>Alice loved the way he pronounced Robert perfectly, the french way, the right way. It made her smile every time. “Yeah, Marc and Robert, they’d kick your ass.”</p><p>Nixon started laughing and shook his head. “I wish they could.”</p><p>Her expression fell a bit. He was right of course. They both wished that. She wished Bernadette could’ve helped her with her hair, and her mother could’ve fussed over the minute details of her dress. She wished her father could’ve held her and hugged her, said how proud he was. </p><p>Maybe that was another reason to elope.</p><p>Nix rested his head on hers for a moment, and Alice tried to forget the pain. She had to forget the flashes of fear and anger and disgust that flooded her body every time she thought about Bernadette. Hatred towards the Nazis took over, and then she couldn’t make sense of things. Better to just force it away.</p><p>When they’d danced to a few songs, they retook their seats. Alice stayed quiet, too busy with her own thoughts to notice much at the table around her. She did, however, notice that Nix took time to engage Blanche in conversation. That made her feel a bit better, that he could see how uncomfortable his sister felt. </p><p>Then the cake came, and they all enjoyed the merriment again. It was a fabulous cake. Alice couldn’t remember having something so lavish in ages. Certainly not since long before the war, when rationing had started. It made her mouth water with every bite. </p><p>And then the reception ended. Harry and Kitty bid them all goodbye, heading off to their honeymoon. Alice didn’t know where to, but she knew they’d be gone for a week or so. Probably the mountains, she guessed. She’d heard Harry talk about this one little spot he’d enjoyed as a kid. In a blink of an eye, they’d left.</p><p>Alice stood watching them get in their car, ‘Just Married’ written on a sign stuck on the back. She didn’t know where Nix had gone, nor Ron, nor Lip or Buck. Dick moved to her other side though.</p><p>“Are you sure you're comfortable driving to Philadelphia alone?” he asked her. </p><p>With a small smile, she looked up at him and nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I already talked to Spina and he gave me directions.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>She looked at him again. “Excited to see Stanhope Nixon and the Nixon empire?” It made her chuckle when he just took a deep breath and shot her the pettiest glare she’d ever seen. “Well, maybe you can help Nix stage a coup.”</p><p>“We’re not there to stage a coup,” he argued immediately.</p><p>Alice laughed. “Tell Nix that.”</p><p>As Harry and Kitty’s car disappeared from view, she turned back to the reception. It had started to wrap up. They had a few hours of daylight left, so she wanted to get on the road. But she needed to find the others first.</p><p>Ron was the easiest to find. He stood chatting with another man in army dress and drinking champagne. Alice recognized him as one of Harry’s friends. When he saw Alice walking over he excused himself.</p><p>“I’m leaving,” she explained. “I wanted to say goodbye.”</p><p>On this rare occasion, Ron smiled neither out of snark nor to intimidate. Alice took it as an invitation to hug him. And so she did. </p><p>“When you and Nixon do tie the knot, let me know.” He told her. “I have a feeling you’re going to do something small.”</p><p>“You’re too smart for your own good, Ron,” Alice chastised. When she broke the hug, she smiled though, forcing herself not to cry. “Tell your sisters I said hi. Even if they don’t know who I am.”</p><p>“They know.”</p><p>Alice grinned. “Good. Any idea where Lip and Buck are?”</p><p>“Compton’s by the bar. Lip may be with him.”</p><p>“Thanks.” With a last smile his way, she made her way over to where the minibar had been set up. Buck and Lip were both there. “Just wanted to say goodbye,” she told them.</p><p>Buck hugged her first, and Alice nearly burst into tears. But she didn’t. She kept it under control. She had to keep herself under control. </p><p>“I gave Nixon my new address,” Buck told her. “Drop a letter or two.”</p><p>“Always,” she assured her, grinning. Then she moved to Lipton. And that’s when she couldn’t keep the tears back. When she grabbed him in a hug, memories of Landsberg suddenly rushed in. Memories of his face being the first she saw after tearing herself away from the gaunt faces behind the prison wire. “Lip. You have to write,” she sputtered.</p><p>“Of course.” He sounded nearly offended that she thought he wouldn’t. When then finally broke apart, he nodded towards the direction of Nix and Blanche. “I gave our address to Nix as well.”</p><p>“Good.” She wiped her tears away. Stupid makeup. “Good. Then I better change and get going.”</p><p>It didn’t take long to change out of the bridesmaid gown and into a less fancy dress. It was one of her favorites, grey with black buttons. After she’d pulled on her hose and don her shoes up, she made her way out of the bathrooms to where Nix stood waiting to take her gown. </p><p>“Alright.” She smiled, handing it over. “I’ll see you boys in a couple weeks.”</p><p>“You’ve got everything?” he asked. “Wallet, clothes?”</p><p>Alice laughed. “Relax, Nix.” Then she looked at Dick. “Make sure he’s fine without me, okay?”</p><p>“I’ve been doing that for years,” he teased.</p><p>Even as Nix objected, Alice moved to Blanche and gave her a hug. “Next time, we’ll have to come out to San Francisco. You can show me all your favorite spots.”</p><p>Blanche smiled right back. “It’s a deal.”</p><p>She gave Nix a quick kiss before bundling into the car. Not for the first time, Alice was beyond thankful the Army had taught her to drive. With a final wave at her fiance, she started the car and sped off in the direction of Philadelphia. </p><p>The drive passed pleasantly. There weren’t many people out, and the mountains of Pennsylvania were quite a sight. Not as large or intimidating as the Alps or the Pyrenees, but they had their own beauty. And once the mountains ended, it was small towns.</p><p>Spina had offered her a place to stay for the night when they’d planned it out a few weeks ago. With his address on a piece of paper and seared into her mind, she searched through the houses on the outskirts of the city. They were nice houses, small. Spina had said his wife was out of town for a couple days, but that she’d agreed to Alice staying over as well.</p><p>When she found the address, Alice turned the car off and sat for a moment. It was quiet. The drive had taken a bit over two hours. Night had just fallen, twilight fading into darkness. The stars above were a bit obscured by both cloud cover and pollution, no doubt. It had been months since she’d seen Spina. A strange fear gripped her heart.</p><p>This was Spina. Ralph Spina. She’d jumped with him on D-Day. She’d helped him in Holland. He’d saved her in Eindhoven. They’d both spent Bastogne taking care of the men and each other, and especially Gene. So why was she scared?</p><p>Alice didn’t have an answer. Pushing open her car door, she made the decision to rip the bandage off. She grabbed her suitcase. Once she’d set foot on the concrete, it felt more final, the decision to get out of the car. Before long, she stood at the door.</p><p>She hadn’t even knocked when the door swung open. Alice nearly cried. Babe Heffron stood in the door, smirking like a child. “Babe!” She dropped her luggage and grabbed him in a hug. “Oh my god. What are you doing here?”</p><p>“Spina let us know you were comin’ in. He ain’t that good at keepin’ secrets,” Babe explained. “Come on.”</p><p>“Let us know?” Her look of confusion turned immediately to recognition when she heard his unmistakable loud mouth down the hall.</p><p>“Hey, sweetheart, get the fuck in here!”</p><p>Alice didn't even try to stop the tears.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter Ten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hugging Bill Guarnere felt like returning home. She felt the sweet sense of security, the familiarity. But she also felt the melancholy of knowing there were moments Alice could never return to in that embrace. Even as tears stained her cheeks, Bill didn’t say anything, and somehow that only made it harder. </p><p>When she’d seen Buck, it’d been hard to forget Bastogne. When she saw Bill, it became impossible. She could see the pain, feel his hand in hers as he was carted off, mangled limb covered in bloody bandages. She could see the way his face scrunched against the agony and fought the morphine’s sweet release so she could selfishly have a few minutes to say goodbye. </p><p>Alice had thought a lot about what to say when she saw him again. She’d planned a quippy smartass remark, or a way to make him joke about hopping about on one limb. But in the moment, she had no words, nothing but a horrible mix of emotions she couldn’t process beyond seeking a hug.</p><p>“You’re gettin’ my shirt wet,” Bill said.</p><p>With half a laugh, half a sob, she let him go. He looked good. Clean-shaven, but a bit more serious than she remembered. Still, he looked like Bill Guarnere, and that was enough for her. “Scheisse!” Alice stammered, turning to where Babe and now Spina stood watching them. “Goddamnit! You two!” But seeing Spina made her let out another choked sob. “Spina.”</p><p>She moved over to the former medic and gave him a hug as well. All of them together, it brought back so many memories. She couldn’t process them. Tears became her only release, and she figured it wouldn’t hurt. They’d seen her through worse than a few sobs.</p><p>“Good to see ya,” Spina said. He returned her hug eagerly and then turned behind him. “Carol?”</p><p>Alice’s eyes widened as a young girl, dark hair bouncing to her shoulders, peered from around the doorway. She looked about three, eyes brown and cheeks rosy. Her sobs subsided as she looked at the little miracle.</p><p>“Carol, this is Alice. She’s a friend of daddy’s,” Spina said. He crouched down. “Remember I told you she helped daddy while he was gone?”</p><p>She nodded. Sticking a finger in her mouth, she looked Alice up and down. “She daddy’s friend?”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, she’s daddy’s friend.”</p><p>“Daddy I want ice cream,” Carol said. She turned from Alice, moving a few feet into the room to tug on Spina’s pant leg. “Mommy said ice cream.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help but laugh. But Spina just shot them all a smirk and a shrug and picked his daughter up. “Ice cream it is.”</p><p>As they disappeared into the kitchen, Alice turned back. Bill had sat back down and Babe was smirking in the same place he’d been standing. He watched her closely. </p><p>“You three,” Alice started again. But she had to catch her breath. “You three are horrible, horrible people.”</p><p>“Ah come on Sweetheart,” Bill teased, “You survived a fuckin’ war. I think you can handle a bit of a surprise.”</p><p>Spina shouted from the other room. “Bill! Watch the language. Carol’s a kid!”</p><p>Babe and Alice both broke out laughing. Bill on the other hand looked peeved. “Ralph, she lives in Philly. She ain’t gonna have a pure mouth.” When they got no response, he just snorted and looked back at them. “He better not turn into a quaker.”</p><p>“Never seen you speechless, Alice,” Babe teased.</p><p>And she was. Alice stood watching them, eyes as wide as Carol’s had been when she’d seen them. But it was like seeing a ghost, looking at Bill there, healthy and seemingly happy. And Babe too. Babe who had been there through Germany, had seen the things they’d seen. </p><p>“It’s a lot,” Alice admitted. “It’s a lot.”</p><p>Babe grinned. “You owe me twenty bucks, Bill.”</p><p>Alice looked at them in surprise. She sighed. “Oh fuck, not again.”</p><p>“Alice, language!”</p><p>“Sorry!”</p><p>Bill just started laughing at Spina’s scolding from the other room. Then he turned back. “Babe and me figured you’d either be struck dumb, or start cussin’ me out. I think I won.” He turned to Babe. “She cursed up a fuckin’ storm, Babe.”</p><p>“But she said nothin’ at first!” </p><p>“How about neither of you won,” Alice argued. She couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Bill’s propensity for betting on her actions really couldn’t be reprimanded. He had been through too much for her to take issue with that. “What’d you put the forty from George towards, Bill? He said it was a surprise.”</p><p>Babe and Bill grew a bit more serious. Slipping into a comfortable chair across from Bill and Babe on the couch, she just waited for the prank to be revealed. But instead, Bill just smiled.</p><p>“I figured the boys would wanna get together maybe, after the war,” Bill said. “Some sorta, what’s a good word for it, Babe? Fucking hell-”</p><p>“Reunion.”</p><p>“Yeah like a reunion.” Bill nodded, as much to himself as to them. “Figured we could get all of ‘em to meet up. Or some. Whoever wanted to.”</p><p>Alice could’ve cried if she’d had more tears left. Instead, she just looked at him, and then started smiling, and finally let out a small laugh. “That, Bill, may be the best idea you’ve ever had.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Sweetheart, I’ve had some pretty good ones before this,” he argued.</p><p>Spina rejoined them. He had a smile on his face and shook his head at Bill’s antics. “Carol’s in bed. She likes to put herself to bed these days. Says she’s a grown-up.” Taking a seat on the chair next to Alice’s own, he took a deep breath. “So, what’ve you been doing with Cap’n Nixon?”</p><p>“We all know what they’ve been up to, Ralph,” Bill teased. While they snickered, she just sighed and hid her face for a moment. But Bill had the decency to move on. “How was Welsh’s wedding?”</p><p>“It was fantastic!” Alice grinned. “Kitty is everything. I’m not surprised Harry was smitten. She’s smart and funny and kind.”</p><p>“Ain’t no way she’s as good as Frannie,” Bill added. He took a sip of the beer that he’d been nursing. </p><p>“Or Agnes,” Spina said. </p><p>“Anyone you want to add, Babe?” Alice turned to him and smiled. “A girl of your own since getting back?”</p><p>Babe shook his head. He looked down at the floor for a moment before turning back to her. “Nah, not yet.” </p><p>“There’s no rush,” Alice assured him.</p><p>“Ah, you’re a US Army paratrooper Babe. The broads are gonna throw ‘em selves atcha.” </p><p>With a cackling laugh, Alice graciously took the glass of wine Spina had gotten for her. It tasted good, maybe a Merlot? Sipping it, she just looked at the three men she’d missed so much. It was so odd to see them in civilian clothes, but not unwelcome. </p><p>“Still drinking everything but the regular people’s swill,” Babe teased her. “Only the best for the best?”</p><p>“You’re too nice, Babe,” Alice argued. But she couldn’t help her growing smile. “I just happen to have class.”</p><p>Babe, Bill, and Spina all roared with laughter at her thinly veiled insult. Content to smirk into her glass of wine, Alice stayed quiet. They jabbed at each other with insults of their own. For a moment, Alice just let her mind wander. But the more it wandered, the darker her thoughts became.</p><p>She remembered the last time she’d seen Bill. She’d teased Joe about his arm. Little had she known his arm would be the least of his worries. And earlier, earlier Bill had verbally thrashed Webb, yet another casualty. </p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, she’s fuckin’ crazy, Webb. Comes up here when she could be hidin’ at the Battalion CP.”</em>
</p><p>Webb had been so young. It hadn’t been his fault that he’d not known how to act around her. But Bill had done her a service. But Bill’s next words, those had meant even more.</p><p>
  <em>“You think it’s funny? She ain’t hidin’ at the CP cause she ain’t afraid peanut. Alice is out here like the rest of us, fightin’ off the goddamn Germans. Her own fuckin’ people.”</em>
</p><p>Germans. Not Krauts. The Germans. For once in his life, Bill had chosen to purposefully acknowledge her request not to use the slur. And then an hour later, he’d been carted away to a hospital to lose his leg. He’d left. He’d gotten out while she’d suffered in Haguenau, and then in Germany when she’d had to see what her people had suffered.</p><p>Her own fuckin’ people? Her people had slaughtered millions. Alice shivered. She took another drink of the wine, let it go down her throat, the bitterness comforting. It matched her mood.</p><p>“Alice.” Babe broke in. “Are you okay?”</p><p>She looked up at them. It took her a moment to realize they’d been watching her. Even with all her willpower, she couldn’t completely stop her right leg from shaking. “I think I need a smoke.” She shot them all a small smile, setting her wine glass on the wooden side table, and hurried out the door. </p><p>When it shut behind her, she winced. The cold hit her. It surprised her, but she scolded herself. It was January. She needed to stop being surprised by the cold. It wasn’t anywhere near what Bastogne had been, either. She lit a cigarette and took a drag.</p><p>Alice shivered. She’d forgotten her coat. With a gasp, memories of Fort Benning rushed in, of forgetting her coat on another morning in another state in another year. Joe Toye had been there, then. Alice choked on a sob. She had to remove the cigarette.</p><p>“Sweetheart-”</p><p>Spinning around, she saw Bill standing in the doorway, light flooding past him. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It just reminded me of…” She choked back another sob. “How much do you know of what happened after you left?”</p><p>“About Germany?” When she nodded, he sighed. “Babe told me all about it. Fucking insane.”</p><p>Alice nodded. She turned back to her cigarette, away from him even as he maneuvered out the door. “It was a lot.” It took all her willpower to keep from sobbing. “It was just a lot.”</p><p>“Yeah, so you been sayin’.”</p><p>She turned to him. He didn’t deserve this. The resentment that he’d not been there, the tears she shed for her own family and people, the anger and the sadness. That wasn’t what he needed. </p><p>“Quit thinkin’ so hard.” He stopped her, laying a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Sobs erupted from her before she could stop them. Bill grabbed her in a hug as she cried. Of all the time for Bill to say sorry, he chose the moment he’d done nothing wrong, and she couldn’t control the emotions it caused. They stood there, Alice trying and failing to collect herself. So they just stood there. They stood in the cold, and Alice cried.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter Eleven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After her breakdown, Alice didn’t stay awake much longer. By the time she got inside again, she was exhausted, emotionally and physically. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to think about Germany and her family. Too long, maybe.</p>
<p>Spina had shown her upstairs, to the extra bedroom. The bed felt glorious. For some reason, her body seemed to expect hard ground. But the mattress and sheets hugged her tightly and she managed to sleep mostly straight through. </p>
<p>When she woke up that morning, Alice could hear Carol downstairs already. Seven in the morning, and the girl was up and running around. A true champion. Alice couldn’t help but smile as she finished putting on her makeup.</p>
<p>Alice took the stairs carefully. Her small heels clicked against the cherry wood. It was a nice house. Small, but comfortable. She liked it.</p>
<p>“Miss Alice!” Carol came bounding around the corner at top speed, down the hall, and almost crashed into her. “Come, come. It’s breakfast!”</p>
<p>Her grin widened as she followed Carol through the hall back to where she assumed the kitchen sat. It had pastel aqua cabinets and cream counters, and drawings in crayon were hung up all over the place. Alice smiled even wider.</p>
<p>“Good morning, Spina,” Alice said.</p>
<p>He turned around where he was messing with breakfast. “Carol, did you wake her up!”</p>
<p>“No, daddy. Miss Alice was awake,” she argued.</p>
<p>When Spina glanced up, Alice nodded. “She didn’t wake me up. Though I wouldn’t have minded.” When a small hand grabbed onto her dress, Alice looked down again. She crouched so she was face to face with the toddler’s brown eyes. “What did you need, Miss Carol?”</p>
<p>“Come see this. I drew a doggy.”</p>
<p>Alice heard Spina groan but she just grinned at the pure excitement in the face of the little girl. “I would love to see your doggy picture. Show me!”</p>
<p>Carol grabbed her sleeve and pulled Alice to the wooden table. Crayons and half eaten breakfast were spread over it, and as she clambered onto her chair, Alice couldn’t help but smile. Carol grabbed a right hand of eggs and stuck them in her mouth before shoving three pieces of paper with dogs drawn on them and refusing the rest of her breakfast.</p>
<p>The green one had to be Alice’s favorite. “These are great, Carol! I love them.”</p>
<p>“Daddy wants a dog,” she told her. “Mommy says not yet. I want this one.” Carol pointed to the green drawing.</p>
<p>“Carol, there aren’t green dogs,” Spina said. He plopped some moderately burnt toast and a glass of water in front of Alice. With a grimace, he just shrugged. “Never was very good at the whole cooking thing.”</p>
<p>“Daddy’s a bad cook,” Carol said. </p>
<p>Then she started giggling, and Alice joined in. With a laugh, she gave Carol a tiny hug. “Well, your daddy can’t be good at everything. That wouldn’t be very fair now would it?”</p>
<p>“Oh daddy’s not. He’s a bad cook. And daddy can’t draw.” </p>
<p>She pointed to a set of stick figure drawings. Alice had to admit they were less than stellar. When she looked up at Spina who had tried to hide his groan behind a coffee mug, she just laughed. Spina hid behind a newspaper.</p>
<p>“I’m sure your mommy’s wonderful though,” Alice added.</p>
<p>“Yes. Mommy’s good at everything,” Carol agreed. She continued to draw, adding longer fur to the green dog. The crayon had gotten down to barely more than a nub. “Mommy’s the best.”</p>
<p>Alice smirked. “Well that’s good.”</p>
<p>“Daddy, is Uncle Bill coming today? And Uncle Babe?”</p>
<p>Spina dropped the newspaper and yawned. Then he nodded. “Yeah, they’re gonna hang out with Alice.”</p>
<p>“I like Miss Alice,” Carol decided. “She likes my dogs.”</p>
<p>“I do like your dogs,” she agreed, chuckling.</p>
<p>Alice set to eating her small breakfast. Carol talked a mile a minute, eager to explain that each doggy had a name, and that she really wanted a green one. Never mind that green ones didn’t exist. She learned quite a bit about Carol. Her favorite color was green. No surprise there. She liked going to the park. She really, really wanted a dog and really didn’t like cats. Alice refrained from mentioning Spot.</p>
<p>“Do you have a dog?” Carol asked her.</p>
<p>Alice smiled. “Not yet. But we want to get one.”</p>
<p>“Are you married?”</p>
<p>“Not yet.” She glanced up at Spina who just shrugged, but couldn’t fully hide his smirk. “Soon though.”</p>
<p>“What kind of dog d’ya want?”</p>
<p>“We haven’t talked about it.”</p>
<p>“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”</p>
<p>“Lewis. But I call him Nix.”</p>
<p>“That’s a dumb name.”</p>
<p>Alice burst out laughing. She didn’t know if Carol meant Lewis or Nix, but Spina looked aghast either way. She assured him it was fine. “I think it’s a nice name.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Because I love him.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>Alice looked over at Spina again. “Because… he’s my boyfriend.”</p>
<p>Saved by the bell. The doorbell rang, jolting Carol from her interrogation of Alice. “Be right back!” She leapt from the table, her feet slamming against the wood and then the rug. </p>
<p>“Carol! Don’t open the door! Shit.” Spina threw his newspaper down and hurried off after his daughter. “Carol!”</p>
<p>“Why!”</p>
<p>“Because you’re a kid.”</p>
<p>“I’m three, daddy.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you’re a kid. Get back!”</p>
<p>Alice couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness. But she supposed such was the way with kids. Carol in some ways reminded her of Percy Bratt. Personalities too big for their tiny bodies. When the door opened and Carol shrieked, Alice had to cover her ears. </p>
<p>“Jesus Christ, kid. The pair of lungs on you!” </p>
<p>Alice froze. Bill and Babe were back. She forced her rapid heartbeat to calm and got up from the table. The previous night, Bill had complained about still using the prosthetic leg, eager to get onto crutches and just get over the whole damn thing. When she came around the corner, she could see why. Carol bounded into him, and he stumbled a bit. Nothing Bill couldn’t handle, but she imagined it got annoying.</p>
<p>“There they are. Late as ever,” Alice heckled. “Carol, did your daddy tell you that all three of them were very very annoying when we worked together?”</p>
<p>“No!” Her smile lit up the room as they moved into the living room from the previous night. “Why?”</p>
<p>Alice grinned. “They never do what they’re told.”</p>
<p>“Neither do I!”</p>
<p>“Then you’re just like your daddy.”</p>
<p>All three of the men huffed various protests. But as Babe went with Spina into the kitchen to grab coffees, Carol continued crawling all over Bill in his chair. He was really good with kids, something Alice wouldn’t have really seen coming. But now that she saw him with Carol, she knew he was a great father.</p>
<p>When she’d gotten the letter that Frannie and he’d had a kid, she’d just gotten back to the states. She’d called, said her congrats, agreed she’d visit sooner rather than later. And then she’d heard his name. Eugene. Alice still got choked up thinking about it.</p>
<p>“So what’s the plan for the day?” Alice asked. Finally tired of using Bill as a jungle gym, Carol said she’d be ‘right back’ and ran off into the house. “Ready to give me a tour.”</p>
<p>“Fucking right. ‘Bout damn time you got your ass here, Sweetheart” he told her. “Babe and Me figured we’d show ya South Philly, and then you can meet Eugene and Frannie.”</p>
<p>She smiled. “Sounds good to me. Where am I staying for the night?”</p>
<p>“Figured you’d stay with us,” Bill suggested. “But you could stay here.”</p>
<p>Alice shook her head. “No. I want to meet Frannie. The woman who stole your heart.”</p>
<p>“Good choice.”</p>
<p>Just as Babe and Spina returned with coffee cups, the door handle started jiggling. Moments later, even as Spina threw his leg out to stop Carol, who appeared out of nowhere, from bursting past, a woman with light brown hair walked in. Her keys went on a hook next to the door. </p>
<p>“Agnes!” Spina let out a deep breath. “Thank God.”</p>
<p>“You can’t handle your own daughter, sweetie?” But Agnes’ smile dropped a little as she saw Alice, Bill, and Babe in the living room. “You must be Alice Klein?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Alice stood and walked over. She extended a hand. “Agnes Spina?”</p>
<p>“That’s me.” She looked a bit more hesitant than Alice hoped she would be. But Agnes looked past her and waved at the boys. “Hey Babe, hey Bill. How are you?”</p>
<p>“We’re good!” Babe grinned and handed her the cup of coffee he’d set to start drinking. “Coffee?”</p>
<p>“Thank you, no I’m alright.” She turned back to Alice. “So. You worked in Europe with Easy Company?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Alice started. “I helped. Some.” She didn’t know how much to say, unsure of how much exactly Spina had already told his wife. “I’m from France. I was a translator for French and German.”</p>
<p>“Ah yes. I remember now,” she added, smiling. “Well, I hope New Jersey isn’t too bad to you. I prefer Pennsylvania myself.”</p>
<p>“That’s cause you’re a true Philly gal,” Bill told her. “Ain’t about to turn tail and be a traitor to your kind.”</p>
<p>Agnes cracked up. “No, I suppose not.” After another moment, where Carol bounded back in and attached herself to Agnes’ leg, she just shook her head. Then she smiled. “Enjoy yourselves. Try not to get poor Alice into too much trouble.”</p>
<p>With a small laugh, Alice just relished the complaints of Bill and Babe behind her. They half-glared at her when she turned around. As Agnes, Spina, and Carol moved into the kitchen, she just shrugged. “Ready?”</p>
<p>“Let’s go,” Babe agreed. </p>
<p>His infectious enthusiasm made her grin, and soon the three of them moved out into the cold and then into Babe’s car. It was small, somewhat old. But Alice liked it. It reminded her a bit of before the war. Bill insisted she take the front so she could see Philadelphia properly, and though she objected, she eventually made a big deal of accepting his gracious offer.</p>
<p>It was too cold to do much outside drive around, but Babe pointed out the Philadelphia Athletics’ field. This led to Bill ranting about how poor they’d done the previous seasons, and how he was starting to prefer rooting for the Phillies. They showed her the Liberty Bell, and other historic sites. But in the end, for Alice, the best part was just being with them and seeing their enthusiasm about their home.</p>
<p>It reminded her a bit of Paris, but in the best way. She tried not to think about the way that had been the final place where she’d really enjoyed the company of Bill, Joe, and George together. Instead, she chose to remember it, then at least, as them enjoying her home. </p>
<p>Of course, home had changed since then. But theirs hadn’t. It never had. Philadelphia seemed to bring out tremendous loyalty in its people. She admired that.</p>
<p>Seeing Babe so happy again after watching him depressed and angry in Haguenau felt good too. She’d not spent too much time with him in Austria, but she knew that as with all the boys, Germany had hit them hard. Sometimes it made her feel guilty that she’d broken down when the rest had had to see the same things and keep going.</p>
<p>“And we’re here!” Babe said, grinning. “Let’s go.”</p>
<p>The sun had started to set. Bill said Frannie had known he’d been gone all day, that he’d told her about Alice and the training, but that he didn’t talk to her about the specifics of the war. Alice could respect that. The families they came home to didn’t understand, and couldn’t, not really.</p>
<p>The townhouse was small, like Spina’s. Made of reddish-brown brick and with white painted windows, Alice couldn’t help but smile. It was perfect. Following Babe out with Bill coming up behind, she just grinned. “Looks good, Wild Bill.”</p>
<p>Babe snickered and Bill just rolled his eyes. But he nodded. “Frannie’s dad used to own it. When they moved out, we bought it from ‘em.”</p>
<p>He wrestled with the key at the top of the couple steps to the small porch. Once he’d stuck it in, the knob turned easily, and they were inside. The sound of a baby crying met them.</p>
<p>“Shit, that’d be Eugene,” Bill muttered. “Come on in.”</p>
<p>“Bill! I need to put him to bed!” The woman had an unmistakable Philadelphian accent, like Bill’s, but it was sweeter, less sharp. When she rounded the corner, she grinned. “Alice!”</p>
<p>“Frannie, this is Alice. Alice is this Frannie. And you know Babe,” Bill added, smirking.</p>
<p>“Hi, Babe,” Frannie said, laughing at the way the young man perked up. “Bill, go put Eugene to bed.”</p>
<p>“Can I meet him?” She hadn’t meant to interrupt their evening routine, but as Frannie brightened up at the question, she was glad she’d asked. </p>
<p>Frannie nodded. “Of course!”</p>
<p>As she moved down the hall, Alice followed her. Eugene was lying on the couch, clearly just changed. While she heard Bill muttering something about broads and babies, she just grinned down at Eugene. “Oh, Frannie, he’s beautiful.”</p>
<p>“Damn right he is,” she agreed.</p>
<p>Alice watched in amazement as the dark-haired, brown-eyed boy tried to push himself up into a seated position. Frannie lapsed into Italian, chatting with her son a mile a minute. Finally, she scooped him up and patted him on the back. </p>
<p>“Would you like to hold him?”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Alice said. The image of her bloodied hands holding something so pure and precious wouldn’t leave her mind. She couldn’t hold him. “Thank you though.”</p>
<p>Frannie laughed at her. “Of course. If you change your mind tomorrow, let me know. He’ll be waking us up bright and early, you can bet on it!” Turning back to her, and to Bill and Babe who apparently had followed them, she pointed to her husband. “I’m going to bed. Make sure Alice feels as welcome as she would if I were down here to keep your ass outta trouble. Got it?”</p>
<p>“Get outta here,” he argued.</p>
<p>But she just winked at Alice. Planting a kiss on his lips, she sped past Bill and said a quick goodnight to Babe. Soon they were left alone.</p>
<p>“Wow,” Alice said a moment later. “She’s fantastic.”</p>
<p>Babe broke out laughing at the admiration in her voice. “She’s from South Philly. What d’you expect?”</p>
<p>“Fucking right.”</p>
<p>They spent an hour chatting quietly in the front room, radio off so as not to disturb Frannie or Eugene. Babe quizzed Alice about what she’d enjoyed about Philadelphia, and she had to admit that Water Ice, the Italian frozen dessert, had been the highlight even in the cold.</p>
<p>“Best thing to come outta the Italians in Philadelphia,” Bill declared.</p>
<p>But soon Babe had to leave, letting her know he’d be by in the morning to pick her up to get her car at Spina’s. Giving him a big hug, she thanked him for all his help. And then there were just two.</p>
<p>Several minutes had clearly passed in silence, because Bill’s words jolted her where she sat. “You all cried out?”</p>
<p>“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do, Bill,” she muttered. “If we’re going to talk about the war, I better get a drink.”</p>
<p>Bill snickered but nodded. He got up and moved back to the kitchen. When he came back, he handed her a bottle of beer with a shrug. She took it. “Eh, you’re allowed to cry. I saw you go through enough to warrant it a couple a times. Fucking crazy shit.”</p>
<p>She let out a small huff and shook her head, looking everywhere but at him. He was right, of course. Finally, she turned back. “It was rough, after you left. And don’t let that go to your head!” she added.</p>
<p>Bill didn’t laugh though. He just nodded. “The real heroes are the ones over there. Muck and Penkala included,” he added. </p>
<p>Of course he had known exactly what she meant. Infuriating really. But she just nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, and I had pneumonia so I wasn’t much help to anyone. Just made everyone more stressed.”</p>
<p>“Well, you always made everyone more stressed,” he joked. But when he saw her frown, he shook his head. “Oh for fucks sake. You don’t actually believe that? Jesus Christ, Sweetheart. You were a little bit of humanity in all that bullshit. And telling tales of your ferocity helped keep the stupid replacements from killin’ themselves,” he added.</p>
<p>She couldn’t help but smile at that. “They were pretty gullible.”</p>
<p>“Gullible? Stupid.”</p>
<p>“Be nice, Bill,” she scolded. </p>
<p>But it was half-hearted and he knew it. So she just drank her beer and listened to Bill prattle on about the comings and goings in South Philly, about the latest gossip and about work. He went on about how great having Babe around was, even if he swore her to never tell him. His mother’s cooking made a few mentions. The simplicity of it all, that’s what Alice valued most. While sitting in the living room, Bill missing a leg and her missing a piece of her soul, didn’t look at all like what she’d hoped post-war would be, she supposed in some ways, it was even better.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter Twelve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>January 28, 1946</strong><br/>
<em>West Warwick, Rhode Island</em>
</p><p>Saying goodbye to Bill, Babe, and Spina had hurt, but not nearly as much as the first time she’d had to do it, especially in Bill’s case. It hurt less than saying hello, too. And for Alice, that meant more than she could express. All three of them assured her that whenever Bill managed to organize the reunion, they’d be there. With that knowledge, she’d set out on her five-hour car ride to Rhode Island.</p><p>By the time she approached George’s town, she felt famished, but it paled in comparison to her stress. Her leg bounced up and down. The anticipation of meeting the Luz family, especially his siblings, crashed over her like a tidal wave. </p><p>If there was one thing beyond her stress that Alice noticed, it was the beauty of Rhode Island. The trees that hadn’t lost their leaves glowed red and orange and amber in the sun that cut through the cloud cover. There was no snow on the ground, though Alice bet that there would be if the clouds above were any indication. Breathtaking, really.</p><p>The houses ranged in size. Alice knew that George hadn’t finished high school because he had to support his large family, so it didn’t surprise her when she pulled up to a moderately large house a bit of a hike from the center of the small town. She looked at it. Fading yellow siding and brown brick made her smile. It felt right.</p><p>Alice got out of the car. She smoothed down her dress in an effort to look as presentable as possible. Two cars sat out front. To her pleasant surprise, it wasn’t as cold as she’d anticipated. Cold, but not freezing. That she could handle.</p><p>Even as she stepped onto the path up to their front door, she heard shrieking and laughter. Looking right, she found two girls and a boy running around. The younger girl had on slacks and a nice blouse, while the older had a blue dress. The boy looked about the same age as her, maybe twelve or thirteen. They rambled on in Portuguese. But as they found Alice standing there, smiling, they all stopped.</p><p>“Hi, I’m Alice,” she started. “I’m a friend of your brother’s. George.”</p><p>Realization seemed to dawn on all three of them. The older girl ran to the door, not even pausing as she flew inside and started shouting. But the other two walked over to Alice.</p><p>“You’re Alice?” The boy asked. “I thought you’d be taller.”</p><p>She chuckled. “Let me guess. Gabriel?” When he nodded, she looked at the girl. “Then you must be Maria.”</p><p>“Yes. Wow. George told us all about you,” she said, beaming. </p><p>Her excitement was palpable. In the chilly air, their breath mingled in little clouds as they stood with each other. Alice felt tears stinging her eyes. “That’s funny. George told me all about you two as well.”</p><p>Gabriel snorted. “Probably all bad things.”</p><p>“No!” Alice shook her head. “No. Just, how much he missed you.”</p><p>Even as he went to respond, the front door opened again. They all turned around. Alice couldn’t stop her grin when she saw George with a cigarette in his mouth. She just shook her head. But George laughed and walked over. “Jesus, thought you’d never show up.”</p><p>Alice grabbed him in a hug. If hugging Bill had felt like going home, hugging George was like she’d never left it. The smell of the cigarette was familiar, just like the way he let her break the hug when she was ready. When she finally pulled away, Alice had to wipe her tears from her face. </p><p>“You know you could’ve come to New Jersey if you were so concerned!” she teased through the tears. “Instead you made me drive all the way out here.”</p><p>“What, and have to visit Captain Nixon too? No thanks.” George just chuckled again though, shaking his head. He looked her up and down. “You look nice! Trying to impress someone?”</p><p>Alice laughed. “Yeah. Your family, you smartass. If you really have told them all about me, I can only imagine the horrible image they have.” </p><p>Before he could respond, though, Alice looked past him at a handful of other people in the door of his house. She noticed that Gabriel and Maria had both disappeared, inside probably, and now she saw a couple of older siblings. </p><p>When an older woman with greying hair pushed through them, Alice couldn’t help but feel the nerves return. Mrs. Maria Luz. George’s fantastic mother.</p><p>“Mom, this is Alice. Alice, this is the fabulous Mrs. Maria Luz,” George said. “Mom has you to thank for keeping me alive, and Alice you have her to thank for my existence.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help but laugh even as Mrs. Luz took her hand and gave her a big shake. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Luz.”</p><p>“You as well,” she replied. </p><p>Her smile was warm, and it set Alice at ease immediately. Just like George. An easy smile for everyone. As soon as Mrs. Luz had shaken her hand, she turned to George and spoke in Portuguese. He responded, and then turned back to Alice.</p><p>“She insists we go inside before you catch a cold,” he explained. Then he rolled his eyes. “She worries over everything. Never mind we went to war, the cold is the real enemy.”</p><p>Alice snorted a laugh. But as she followed George, silently she agreed with Mrs. Luz. Cold could be just as deadly as war. She’d learned that the hard way. </p><p>When they walked in the door, he jumped straight into more introductions. “Lisa, Jose,” George said, “Alice.”</p><p>Jose was tall, taller than George. It surprised her, given that if she counted right, he was only about sixteen. Lisa was closer to Alice’s height, with dark hair in tight, neat curls and a gentle smile. They both said hello.</p><p>“Victoria’s out with her fiance. Dorothy and Manuel have houses down the street. You already met Rita outside.” He narrowed his eyes at Maria, who’d come up, eagerly awaiting more information. “Where’s Santi?”</p><p>“He’s with Sam and Isaac,” she said.</p><p>George rolled his eyes. “Typical. I told him to be here.”</p><p>“Santi said he didn’t care.”</p><p>“Again,” George replied, “Typical.”</p><p>Alice didn’t mind though. So many names that she’d heard for years now had more than black and white photos to identify from. They had living, breathing faces and rich voices. Overwhelming, but not unpleasant. So many names though. Suddenly the sense of missing something overwhelmed her. Maybe because she saw Bernadette in the mannerisms of the girls, and Robert and Marc in the mannerisms of the boys. Her mother she saw in Mrs. Luz, and when Mr. Luz said hello, her father.</p><p>After half an hour of being grilled with questions related to her and George’s relationship as best friends and not, in fact, lovers by the younger group of kids, the topic shifted to the war. Maria and Rita grew tired of listening to more war stories and ran off. But Jose, and Santi who came in with a practiced air of no interest, both settled down with the adults to hear about Alice’s role in the military.</p><p>They found it particularly funny that George was the first Toccoa man she ever met, on a train down to Georgia. Alice fondly recalled letters from Maria offering her a look at family life that she no longer had.</p><p>“My family passed away during the war,” she tried to explain. Her chest hurt as she thought about it, about the knowledge that while she’d been in Bastogne, her sister had been dying in an extermination camp. “I have some friends in Paris, though. And I live in New Jersey.”</p><p>“Did your brothers fight in the war?” Lisa asked.</p><p>“My brother, Marc, he was killed in January of 1941.” She could feel her resolve to speak fading quickly. “Robert and I fought the Nazis in the Alps, part of the French Resistance there. Then I came to America, and he was caught by the Gestapo.”</p><p>“George said you had a sister, too?”</p><p>George rolled his eyes. “Lisa, stop asking questions.”</p><p>But Alice just offered him a small smile and a shrug. “It’s okay. She and my parents were killed later. I’d rather not speak about that.”</p><p>The room went quiet. Alice could hear her breathing faltering, and the ticking of a clock nearby. In the end, it was Santi who was their saving grace as the fourteen-year-old boy insisted he needed food and that in no uncertain terms, he needed it right then.</p><p>“I’m going to grab a smoke, if that’s alright?” Alice asked. No one said no, so she hurried out the front door and walked a bit away from the house, hugging her coat close. She wrestled out her lighter and popped a cigarette in her mouth. </p><p>“How was Welsh’s wedding?” It didn’t surprise her one bit that George had followed her out. But it did surprise her when he handed her a small sandwich. “Figured you’d be hungry.” He broke into a grin and started impersonating her. “I need a damn sandwich. Where’s Nix when I need some good food, not just good whiskey-”</p><p>“Stop!” Alice laughed and swatted him. “You’re terrible. Don’t make fun of my fiance.”</p><p>George snorted and shook his head. “I was making fun of you not him, but okay.”</p><p>They stood smoking for a minute. The quiet of Rhode Island, outside the Luz household, felt strangely pleasant. Philadelphia had been full of noise and constant movement. Rhode Island felt peaceful. Alice turned to George. “How did you get so good at voices? Use it to make trouble in class?”</p><p>George chuckled. He gestured back towards the house. “It's good for bedtime stories.”</p><p>“Oh that is fucking adorable,” Alice said.</p><p>“Jesus Christ. Don’t make fun of me now.”</p><p>“Me?” At the roll of his eyes, Alice broke down laughing. She just nodded. “Okay, okay. Fine. Because your family is being nice and letting me stay, I’ll be nice to you.”</p><p>“Louis I think this is the beginning of-”</p><p>“No! George!”</p><p>“-a beautiful friendship.”</p><p>Alice groaned but she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She should’ve expected nothing less. Casablanca seemed to have become their secret language. All the way back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. Alice smiled.</p><p>“How long are you staying?”</p><p>Alice shrugged. “Nix is getting Dick set up at the business these first few days. That’s why I figured I’d drive around and visit. Let them have a few days together and then head back.”</p><p>“Well, my house is your house. Though the family may get a bit much,” he added. “There’s a motel in town, if you’d rather stay there.”</p><p>“They certainly are rowdy,” Alice said, chuckling. “Maria’s adorable, as you always promised.”</p><p>“Oh, and you haven’t even met the older ones. Victoria’s a handful. Dorothy’s a little better. I’d guess Manuel, Lisa’s twin, will be over tomorrow. He’s quieter than me.”</p><p>“That’s not hard.”</p><p>“I’m shocked, shocked you find me loud.”</p><p>“Stop. George I swear-”</p><p>“You couldn’t get me to stop for the past three and a half years. Think I’ll stop now?” He dropped his cigarette to the grass and stomped it out. Then he looked her over more seriously. “It’s not been easy here, and I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you. I’m not stupid, I’m a smartass, remember?”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help but smile. “I know.”</p><p>“So I’m gonna have a bit a fun while you’re here,” he added, smirking. “Come on. It’s getting a bit late. Dinner’s soon, if Santiago hasn’t totally ruined the meal plan.”</p><p>“He is quite a character,” Alice agreed. “I think he may be my favorite.”</p><p>George groaned. “Jesus Christ, please for all that is holy do not tell him that. Trust me. It’ll go straight to his already massive head.”</p><p>With a laugh, she also put out her cigarette and turned to follow him in. Between George and the smoke, she’d calmed down, and felt a bit better prepared to face the eager siblings and parents inside. She just hoped they could accept nonanswers from her, if she needed to give them such. But Alice knew George would help. Besides, she wasn’t about to pass up a home-cooked meal.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter Thirteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“George, you can’t be serious.”</p><p>“What! You said you wanted to do something a little less loud.”</p><p>“Running up a mountain wasn’t really what I meant!”</p><p>Alice stood outside, wearing the one pair of pants she’d brought with her and wrapped in her tight jacket. Fortunately for her, his brother Santi had a pair of boots her size, so with those in place of mary janes, she supposed she at least had gear for it.</p><p>“Jesus calm down.” George just laughed at her through his cigarette. “Get in the car.”</p><p>Muttering under her breath in French, knowing he couldn’t understand her, Alice did as asked. It was cold, not freezing, but still cold. No wind, so small mercies. But when she’d suggested getting away from the Luz clan for a couple hours she’d meant maybe… well, anything but running Rhode Island’s Currahee.</p><p>George was snickering to himself as he turned the car on. She wanted to be mad at him. She really did. She’d not come all the way from Philadelphia to run up a damn mountain. But this was George, and when he got it in his head to do something, there was no stopping him.</p><p>“I outrank you.”</p><p>“Not in the military anymore.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes and looked out the window as they backed down to the road. “Not that it ever worked back then.”</p><p>“True.”</p><p>With a tiny huff, she continued to watch the road. Small houses passed every couple of minutes. He’d said the mountain was about half an hour away. Half an hour before she had to run another Currahee. Then she paused. “I’m older than you-”</p><p>“By like six months. That doesn’t count.” He shook his head. “Jesus Christ you’re worse than Victoria. All you gotta do is sit there, lookin’ pretty.”</p><p>“I do look fantastic, thank you,” she bit back.</p><p>As George just muttered around his cigarette, she risked a glance in his direction. The look of pure disdain morphed into a begrudging laugh. He told her to shut up. Alice just chuckled again and settled back to watch the Rhode Island countryside. </p><p>Half an hour later, when the car stopped, Alice looked at him in confusion. “Where’s the mountain?”</p><p>“I said it was the highest peak. Never said it was a mountain,” George teased. “Get out. Welcome to Jerimoth Hill. Point three miles up, point three miles down.”</p><p>“This is the highest point in Rhode Island?” Alice looked at the mostly flat forest in the distance. “This?”</p><p>“Yep. Come on. There’s a really great boulder at the top.”</p><p>Alice would’ve smacked him if he’d been closer than the other side of the car. The wind had picked up a bit. Clearly they’d gone up in elevation. But not by much, if the relatively flat area around was any indication. Pine trees forested the area, and a small, breaking down ‘No Trespassing’ sign hung from a post beside a long driveway.</p><p>“It says No Trespassing,” she pointed out.</p><p>He snorted. “Yeah. That stops about no one. I know the guy’s son gets a bit twitchy about it, but they’ve never stopped anyone that I know of.”</p><p>“Point three miles up, you said?” she finally asked. As her smile grew, she shut her car door. “I think I can handle that.”</p><p>“Big words for a girl.”</p><p>“Never stopped you from trying to outdo me before.”</p><p>“Never said it would stop me.”</p><p>With another snort, Alice just pushed past him and looked at the slightly overgrown trail to the left of the driveway. She nodded. “Let’s go then.”</p><p>The hike took little time, only about half an hour. But the quiet filled Alice with a very deep sense of peace that she had been sorely lacking in the whirlwind since New Jersey. Pine needles scattered the forest floor, some obscuring a few slanted rocks in the ground that made her thankful for Santi’s boots. Even with the easy elevation, mary janes would’ve been tough. </p><p>They saw no one else. Alice did catch sight of one deer, and George teased her endlessly for talking to it. But she just ignored him. If she wanted to talk to the deer, she was going to talk to the deer. At one point, they passed a boulder in the ground where someone had stopped to pile rocks up into a statue looking thing. George wanted to push it over.</p><p>“Don’t be rude,” Alice scolded him. “Come on. Hi-yo Silver, yeah?”</p><p>“Oh god,” George moaned. “Don’t.”</p><p>“You’re the one who’s good at impressions. I won’t even try Sobel,” she assured him. With a chuckle, she kept pushing on the surprisingly well-marked trail. It was a walk in the park. Or, forest.</p><p>They broke out of the treeline. About fifty meters ahead, near a set of other trees, a boulder with more piled rocks lay next to the trail. George grinned and jogged up to it. “See. A really great boulder.”</p><p>“It’s fantastic, George. A great boulder,” Alice teased. “Don’t forget though, we still have to slog point three miles down.”</p><p>“Yeah. Better take a rest.”</p><p>She plopped down onto the boulder. Her beret tipped a bit off as she lay back, and she used it to keep stray pine needles from her hair. George had disappeared somewhere further down the trail. With a deep breath through her nose, Alice took in the fresh scent of pine, ferns, and chill air. </p><p>It was nice. Not freezing, but chilly. Not loud, just peaceful. As much as Alice had enjoyed spending a couple days with the Luz family, they really were quite a rambunctious crowd, and she’d started to get a bit claustrophobic. Victoria had been a hoot, clearly not quite impressed with Alice at all. That had been the highlight, listening to her interrogate her like a prisoner.</p><p>But out here, it was more simple. No questions. Just quiet. And quiet meant she could think. She’d done quite a bit of thinking while with Bill and Babe and Spina. Something Harry had said in their last few days in Mourmelon-le-Grand kept coming back to her. </p><p>
  <em>“Why are you still hiding?”</em>
</p><p>Harry had been right, of course. Ever the expert at answering with nonanswers. A gift, really. At least the officers had gotten a bit more information after Germany. Gene and Malark knew the full story behind her joining the Maquis. But somehow George just… hadn’t been there for it. And as Alice lay there staring up between shivering pine trees at the blue sky, she kicked herself for it. The one guy in all of Easy who she trusted more than anyone except Nixon was still in the dark about her life before Easy.</p><p>Laughter pulled her from her thoughts. George stood over her, shaking his head. He took a drink from his canteen.</p><p>“What?” Alice asked. She sat up as he took a spot on the boulder too. </p><p>“You do the arm thing even when you’re laying down,” he told her. “When you’re thinking.”</p><p>With a groan, she shook her head. But then she paused. “I guess… It’s like a way to protect myself.”</p><p>George stopped laughing. “From what?” He looked genuinely confused.</p><p>She felt herself clamming up. Scheisse. She just had to talk! Why was it so hard? Alice felt her arms creeping back to her midsection. “I- I don’t know. I guess just. People. Talking... Thinking.” When he didn’t respond, she just shrugged again. Alice just wanted to disappear. “Fuck it. You didn’t happen to be around in Germany when the officers held a fucking intervention against me, so you never really got the whole… story.”</p><p>“Is that why you stopped trying to smoke yourself to death?” he asked seriously. </p><p>Alice shrugged. “Dick and Gene said they would pull me off the line. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to show them I could trust them enough not to… I don’t know… kill myself inadvertently.”</p><p>“Good. Jesus Christ, the way you were going with those smokes, I thought for sure they’d do you in,” he admitted. George picked up a couple of pine needles and tore them apart. “I told Doc as much.”</p><p>“Probably would’ve,” she admitted. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I kept blaming myself for Bernadette’s-” her breath hitched. “Well, for everyone’s deaths. I’m the reason Marc got killed.”</p><p>“That jackass Nazi who cornered you in a bar is, not you,” George said, anger practically dripping from his words as he spat them out.</p><p>She shrugged. “He was looking for me. I had slept with another Nazi officer a couple days before, to get some information for the resistance.” For a moment, she paused, waiting for the judgement to fall. The memory of the women in Eindhoven, with their bleeding, shaved heads and bruised bodies flooded back to her.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“What?” Alice hadn’t expected that response. To be honest, she wasn’t sure what response she’d been expecting, but an apology had not been it. “I made the choice, to sleep with the man.”</p><p>“Is it a choice when your whole damn country is taken over by people who want to kill you?” George asked.</p><p>Alice turned to him. She’d not seen him in Eindhoven. A lot of the men of 2nd Battalion had laughed along at the women being beaten. They’d seen them as traitors. And maybe they were. Maybe her circumstances had been different in Paris. But she found it hard to accept that. But George looked at her, not wavering, so she looked away.</p><p>“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know, George.”</p><p>“Well I do. So stop beating yourself up for it,” he told her.</p><p>“Regardless, that got Marc killed, and Robert and I left. I never even got to hug Bernadette goodbye,” she added. “We left that night. Germaine got a letter to our parents, and that was it. I wasn’t there to keep her safe. And Robert left with me, so he couldn’t get them out in time.”</p><p>Silence fell for a few moments. Then he cracked a smile. “Robert. It’s so funny, without the T sound.”</p><p>“It’s the French way, George,” she reminded him.</p><p>“That’s why it’s funny.”</p><p>She started chuckling. “Oh, Robert would’ve hated you.”</p><p>George choked on the drink of water he’d just taken. “Wait, what?” He looked mildly offended, but Alice just shook her head so he calmed down.</p><p>“He was so protective of me. I swear he all but stalked Alain, my first real boyfriend, for a month. And that was in the middle of preparations for a war!” Alice laughed. “I remember one time, Alain and I were walking home from Le Jardin des Plantes. He was at a cafe across the street. When I called him out on it he just shrugged, and continued to watch!”</p><p>“Nixon would’ve driven him up a wall, then,” George said, laughing.</p><p>That made Alice laugh again. “Oh definitely. He’d be aghast that I planned to marry an American at all, honestly. But I like you.”</p><p>“Americans?”</p><p>“Yeah. Most of you,” she added, frowning. Thoughts of Stanhope Nixon filled her mind, his type of rich socialite who hated anything to do with anyone not them. </p><p>“Uh oh,” George interrupted. “Someone pissed you off.”</p><p>Alice shrugged. “Nix’s father. He’s a piece of work.”</p><p>“Not a nice guy?”</p><p>With a scoff, she just turned to him. “Stanhope Nixon is terrible. He belittles everyone, especially his daughter. Hates me with a passion. Pretty sure he blames me for Kathy’s divorce. He’s a drunkard, and violent.” Alice shook her head. “Nix hates him as much as I do,”</p><p>“Damn. I had no idea.” He frowned. </p><p>“We’ll get through it,” she assured him. “I’ll bet you though. Nix is going to get tired of his bullshit someday and just leave the company behind. I think the only reason he doesn’t is because of Blanche, his sister. Stanhope would probably take it out on her. She’s about Victoria’s age,” she added. “I wish he would just leave. He has enough money already to not work very much.”</p><p>“Knowing Captain Nixon, he’d probably go crazy without something to do though,” George said. “Have you got a job, or are you enjoying the homemaker role?”</p><p>“Nix and I talked about it. One of the other executives at Nixon Works offered me a secretarial position. I can start whenever I feel like it,” she said. “After we get married, I’ll probably do that at least for a little while.”</p><p>“When’s the wedding?” George asked.</p><p>Alice winced. “We actually aren’t holding anything special,” she told him. “Don’t be offended if you don’t get an invitation. But Nix and I plan to just elope, to at least have a little time before the tabloids of New Jersey and New York eat us up.”</p><p>He looked unhappy but shrugged. “Makes sense I guess.”</p><p>Alice liked to think so. She hadn’t told Nix yet, but she had a few ideas of where to go for a honeymoon. The thought made her smile as she picked at a pinecone. Run off to Europe, never see another page with responsibilities on it ever again. She’d made a joke about it, but sometimes it appealed to her. </p><p>“I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.” </p><p>Alice glanced over at him. It surprised her, the genuine sadness in his tone of voice. At her questioning look, he just shrugged. </p><p>“They don’t get it,” he tried to explain. “My family. The war, the friends we made. They want it all to go back to normal.”</p><p>“It can’t go back to normal,” Alice agreed. “That I learned years ago, as soon as Hitler got elected.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. Shit. It’s just not fair,” he said, sighing. Trailing off, he threw a rock into the trees nearby.</p><p>With a nod, she agreed with him. But then she smiled. “If it makes you feel better, Bill’s got a grand plan to get everyone together in a few months. Or anyone who wants to. A reunion of sorts.”</p><p>“No shit. Really?” George grinned. Then he laughed. “Trust Wild Bill to do that. Well that’s good, at least. Count me in.”</p><p>“Me too. And Nix and Dick’ll come if I have to drag them screaming by the ears,” she added.</p><p>At the mental image, they both laughed. It was good to know that even with a goodbye like the next day would bring, it was only temporary. West Warwick, Rhode Island wasn’t that far from Nixon, New Jersey. It was a few hours’ car ride. They weren’t all that far. As long as life could stay relatively quiet, there was no reason they couldn’t occasionally visit.</p><p>“You know what, George?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You were right. It’s a pretty great boulder.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter Fourteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>February 2nd, 1946</strong>
  <br/>
  <em>Nixon, New Jersey</em>
</p><hr/><p>The sight of the Nixon estate rising up in front of her halfway between Nixon and Princeton, New Jersey, filled Alice with relief. There’d been some rain on the three-hour drive from Rhode Island, and she’d never quite gotten used to driving in freezing rain. It still bothered her, reminded her of Bastogne in a weird, roundabout way. But pulling into their driveway eased all her stress.</p><p>It was Saturday. Nix and Dick were probably out causing trouble. Or, more accurate, Nix was probably out causing trouble and dragging Dick along with him. If not, they were inside. Alice smiled as she turned the key and slammed her door closed behind her. Just as she reached the front porch, a bit of rain started behind her.</p><p>The door swung open with ease. But Alice stopped in her tracks as she stepped in. She heard a bark. And then she heard the scratching of nails on the wood floor. And then, to her joy, she saw a bouncy, black dog hurry down the hall. Alice nearly shrieked. </p><p>“Hello! How are you?” Alice fell to her knees on the oriental rug by the door as the dog crashed into her. “Oh my goodness, hello!” She shied away as it tried to lick her face, and she laughed. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” Then she paused, squishing its face a little. “You have to be nice to Spot if you’re staying. Can you do that?”</p><p>“Arietta gets a kiss before me?”</p><p>Alice looked up. Nix stood next to Dick at the other end of the hall. Both of them were shaking their heads. “Listen, if you were as cute as this darling dog, you’d get a kiss too.”</p><p>“You mean I’m not?”</p><p>“You’re definitely a dog. But you’re not this cute,” she bit back, smirking. “Has he been terrible company while I was gone, Dick?”</p><p>“Infuriating, really,” he agreed.</p><p>“I expected as much.” She tried to stand, but Arietta pushed at her again, and she stumbled back onto the ground. “Oh hello. Yes I still see you.”</p><p>“You can see why she didn’t quite meet the requirements to be a guide dog,” Nix crouched down and scratched her behind the ears. “My mom said we could take her.”</p><p>“Doris Nixon just never ceases to impress me, honestly,” Alice told him. “How is your mom so great and yet your father is so terrible?”</p><p>“Beats me,” Nix muttered. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “They get along, by the way. Aria and Spot.”</p><p>“Good.” With a grin, she gave him the kiss he wanted. “There. Feel better?”</p><p>“Dick, she loves me. I swear,” he said, turning back.</p><p>Dick let out a small scoff and shook his head. “Her mistake.”</p><p>“That’s true,” Nix agreed.</p><p>“So. We have a dog now. And a new housemate,” She grinned a Dick. “What else did you mess up while I was gone?” Then she laughed. “And where is Spot?”</p><p>“He’s on the sofa,” Dick told her. “Hogging the blankets.”</p><p>Alice chuckled. Sounded about right. Spot knew his spot, that was for sure. To her relief, Arietta seemed to tire of being rambunctious and moved over to an open bit of the wood floor to lie down. She looked around. “Blanche?”</p><p>“Had to go back to San Fran,” Nix told her. “Mom needed help with some Guide Dogs for the Blind administration stuff. So, it’s just the three of us until this guy gets his apartment in a few days.”</p><p>Dick grimaced. “Sorry to crash in your house.”</p><p>“Please. It means Nix has someone to bother other than me,” she teased. “I’ve got to freshen up. But first I want to see my kitty.”</p><p>Alice wasted no time in pushing past Nixon and Dick to get to the living room in the back of the house. There Spot was, curled up in all his stripey orange glory in the middle of a pile of blankets. The fact that the dog didn’t seem to bother him one bit made her smile even more. What a trooper. As soon as she placed her hands around his body and lifted him up, he meowed at her. </p><p>“Hello, handsome. How are you? Did you enjoy spending time with your siblings while Nix and I were away?” She held him tight, and he pushed up under her chin. “I’m sure you did. Now you’ve got another new sibling. Aria’s a bit bigger, though. And not as catlike.”</p><p>“Hey, by the way,” Nix started, leaning in the doorway, “we’re going to a social dinner tonight for the business.”</p><p>“Tonight?” She frowned. But Nix looked as apologetic as she could’ve expected so she nodded. “Right.” The idea of socializing with the elite of New York and New Jersey before she’d had a chance to really meet any of them scared her more than she wanted to admit. Nix must’ve seen it, because he moved into the room.</p><p>“Don’t worry. Stick with me, or Ruth, if I’m off making friends,” he added. </p><p>“Ruth? Oh, she was your secretary, right?” Alice couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “I liked her.”</p><p>“Yeah I thought you might,” Nix laughed. “She’s good. Hates Stanhope almost as much as us. She said she’d be happy to keep you company.”</p><p>Alice smiled. “That’s nice of her. Why does she hate your father?”</p><p>“Because she’s smart?” Nix shrugged. “Not quite sure. You can ask her. She spends time with Marjorie, the Black girl that my mom hired while she was still involved. That pisses off my father right there.”</p><p>Alice smiled. She knew she liked Doris Nixon. A founder for Guide Dogs for the Blind, in charge of the California Cancer Society, national vice-president of the American Women's Voluntary Services during the war, member of the World Affairs Council, and apparently a supporter of Civil Rights? That she could get behind. </p><p>“Well, I’ll have to ask Ruth myself then,” Alice agreed. “Dick?” she called.</p><p>When he came into the room, Aria followed him. The dog panted happily as Dick crouched back down to pet her. “Yes, I’m going. And yes, I’d rather not.”</p><p>Alice grinned. “Good. We can be miserable together.”</p><p>“I’ll be miserable too,” Nix added.</p><p>“No, you won’t. You’re going to find the bar, and get some drinks, and then happily sow discord among your father’s friends.” When he didn’t object, she grinned. “I know you too well.” Then she sighed. “Well, in that case, I really do need to freshen up.”</p><p>“I’ll come up too-”</p><p>“No!” She dodged him, putting Spot down and getting over to Dick in the hallway. “Dick! Keep him down here. Or I’ll never get myself put back together.”</p><p>Nixon just started snickering, but put his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I need a drink anyways.”</p><p>“Dick, don’t let him get drunk before the party,” Alice added. </p><p>She didn’t wait for him to respond as she hurried down the hall and up the stairs. A party, after days and days of being with rambunctious people. She sighed. But she had some responsibility to Nix and to maintain her own social image. As she stood in the bathroom in front of the mirror, she just sighed again. She needed to redo her hair and her makeup. And then she needed to find a decent dress. </p><p>In the end she picked out a dark purple cocktail dress, fixing a brooch that Nix had given her in the right shoulder area opposite the gathered, wrapped neckline at the left. With her hair styled, and her makeup applied, she nodded to herself in the mirror. One of the black, fancy berets she’d gotten post-war would work well with the dress. Grabbing that, she finally felt put together.</p><p>It was nice, really, to be able to put herself together. The one benefit of high society life? Alice smiled at the thought in the mirror and then slipped her shoes on. It was nearly seven already. They’d need to leave soon. </p><p>With her heels clicking against the dark wood stairs, she just grinned as she saw Nix watching her from the bottom, flask in hand. “I do clean up well when you’re not in the way.”</p><p>“Shit, can we just stay here?” he asked.</p><p>Alice scoffed. “No. Now that I’m done, you go put yourself together so we can both look so good that your father looks like an idiot,” she added. That did the trick, and after another long stare, Nix hurried himself up to their bedroom.</p><p>After another ten minutes, all three of them stood at the door, ready to go make friends with the high society crowd. Nix looked absolutely at ease, which pissed Alice off a bit as she could feel herself getting more and more nervous by the minute. Dick stood straight, probably as uncomfortable as she was.</p><p>“Right. You two, stop looking like you’re going to a funeral,” Nix said, laughing. “Come on.”</p><p>To their credit, they both tried to improve their moods. Dick insisted Alice take the front passenger side, so she sat as well postured as she could and put on a small smile. If she smiled enough, maybe she could just make herself happy. But then she froze.</p><p>“What’s my story?” She turned to them. “We need to get this straight. Translator, right? I was a translator for 2nd Battalion?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Nix told her.</p><p>“Right. Right.” She nodded to herself and muttered another ‘right’. Translator. Saw no combat. Easiest story for the socialites to accept. For a moment Alice felt like she was back trying to play at being friends with the Brass in Austria. She’d succeeded most times back then. She would succeed here. </p><p>The party was being held at a large ballroom in Princeton. According to Nix, it was a sort of welcome back party for all the men who had worked at the Nitration Works prior to the war who now returned. A thank you for your service, sort of thing. Alice couldn’t help but wonder just how many people had been invited. Nix assured her under a hundred. That sounded like far too many.</p><p>When the car came to a halt outside the hotel chosen for the event, Alice took a moment to just breathe. Nix got out and opened her door for her, smirking the entire time. It made her grin right back. “Such a gentleman,” she teased.</p><p>“That’s my middle name.”</p><p>Alice scoffed. Dick took up Nix’s left, and she on his right. It took absolutely no time for him to take her coat and give it and his own to the bellhop inside. Alice felt entirely overwhelmed. A few dozen hotel workers carrying trays of drinks crossed in the lobby, most with empty platters. The ones with full drinks went the direction they were headed. When she stepped into the wooden-floored ballroom, she paused.</p><p>A massive band played at the far end of the hall. For a moment it reminded her of Kitty’s wedding. But this was more extravagant. During the war, she would’ve called it a waste, but she supposed with the war at an end, the people needed things like this to feel like normalcy had returned. <br/>It hadn’t, of course. At least not for her, or for the men with her. Then again, Dick had gotten well acquainted as a Major to sucking up to high profile people, so she supposed he at least had experience. She had tended to stay with Tab during parties.</p><p>Tab. She suddenly missed the flare of Floyd Talbert as she moved into the ballroom. Nix took her arm though, distracting her. He murmured that they had to go say hello to his father whether they wanted to or not, so she just put on a smile and followed his lead.</p><p>Stanhope Nixon in his large, elegant suit stood chatting and laughing with a handful of other men just as pompous as he. Dick had come with them, standing slightly behind Nix. When they got closer, one of the men caught sight of them and grinned.</p><p>“Lewis! There he is.” He moved from Stanhope’s side and shook the younger Nixon’s hand. “Good to see you, boy.”</p><p>“Cliff,” Nix said, forcing a smile. “A pleasure as always. Is that suit new? Looks good on you.” Then he turned to Alice. “I’d like you all to meet Alice Klein, my fiance.”</p><p>“Hello,” she said, smiling as well. “It’s a pleasure.”</p><p>“Certainly is,” Cliff agreed. “Lewis certainly outdid himself looking to replace Miss Page.”</p><p>Alice felt herself cringing. But she did her best to let the insult slide. She couldn’t tell who it insulted more, herself or Katherine. But she ignored it. </p><p>“And this is Richard Winters, the Works’ new Personnel Manager and one of my best friends,” Nix went on. “We served together. Or, I served under him,” he added with a smirk. </p><p>Stanhope nodded. “We’re glad to have you on the team.”</p><p>One of the other men, who Alice soon learned was named Duncan, offered them all drinks from a passing waiter. When Dick declined, Stanhope just scoffed. “Too rich for you?”</p><p>“I don’t drink, sir,” Dick corrected, tone flat.</p><p>“Means he always has his wits about him. Which makes one of us,” Nix added. He offered a small smile at his father before turning to the other men. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to show Miss Klein and Mr. Winters some of the other men.”</p><p>“You do that,” Stanhope agreed.</p><p>When they moved away, Nix fumed. But Alice just grabbed his hand and assured him it was fine. He rolled his eyes. “They’re a dying breed. Hopefully,” he added. Taking another drink of his champagne, he turned to them. “Right. Dick, you and I are on socializing duty. Alice, let’s find Ruth.”</p><p>It turned out she wasn’t hard to find. The woman stood by herself at a small table with hors d'oeuvres and drinking a glass of wine. Her deep red hair had been done back in curls, and her blue dress accented her pale skin. When she saw them moving over she straightened up.</p><p>“Mr. Nixon, what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked.</p><p>“Ruth you can drop the act.” He smirked. “You’ve met Alice already. This is Dick Winters, friend, comrade, all-around great guy. Stick in the mud though.”</p><p>“Ah, well, that’s a shame it is." She smirked. “Ruth Burke, personal secretary to Mr. Lewis Nixon.”</p><p>“Good to meet you,” Dick said, offering her a smile and his hand.</p><p>As they shook, Nixon gestured to him. “He’s starting on Monday. The new Personnel Manager.”</p><p>“Ah, right. Lovely.” She smiled. “Well, Lewis, I’m a guessing you’re dropping this lovely woman off with me so she can avoid the sharks?” When Nixon nodded, she nodded back. Then she turned to Alice. “I should warn yah though, sorry, sticking with me may mean very few people like you. Though I suppose very few people like you anyways, given Stanhope’s opinion of you.”</p><p>“So I’ve figured out,” Alice agreed. But then she smiled. “I don’t particularly care for him either, though.”</p><p>“Of course you don’t. You have intelligence.” Then she smirked, and turned back to Nix. “She’s in good hands.”</p><p>With a quick kiss, Nix left her to Ruth’s protection as he and Dick moved off to get close to the high profile men in attendance. Alice saw a dozen or so young women, some she recognized as secretaries but most she’d never seen. By the time she realized Ruth was watching her, she nearly blushed. “Sorry.”</p><p>“For what? Reading the playing field? Don’t be.” Ruth handed her a small hors d'oeuvres. “That one, the fat one with the pretty little brunette thing on his arm with him? That’s Jackson Clark. Right jackass, he is. And over there, the skinny man losing his hair?” When Alice nodded, she grinned. “Thurston Tennison. Also a jackass he is.”</p><p>Alice snorted. “Lots of them, it seems.”</p><p>“Yes ma’am. Lots of ‘em. But what about you?” Ruth turned to her quickly. “How did you end up with the famous Lewis Nixon III. No offense but before you there was a different girl on his arm at every event.”</p><p>“I met him in Europe. I was a translator for French, German, and Dutch for his unit.” She chewed on the cucumber in the hors d’oeuvres she’d been handed. </p><p>“Was this before or after Kathy dumped him?”</p><p>Alice straightened up. “We met before. But he didn’t approach me about anything until after she’d divorced him.”</p><p>“Fascinating,” Ruth said. “He must really like you, then. Good on you.”</p><p>“My turn,” Alice decided. “How did you end up his personal secretary, if you’re known for being so against Stanhope Nixon?”</p><p>Ruth downright grinned. Her pearly white teeth flashed in light around them. “Ah simple. Connections. My oldest brother, Eoin, works with Mrs. Nixon over in San Francisco. He got me a job, and Nix chose me as soon as it became quite clear I was not about to bow to his father’s every whim. He can try get me in a closet, but I’ll fight him tooth and nail the whole way.” She turned to Alice. “Don’t be surprised if one of these days Stanhope gets drunk and tries a pass at you. God rest his soul if he does though, given you’ve got two strapping army lads defending your honor sure.”</p><p>Alice laughed. “Something tells me you’re right.”</p><p>“Stick with me, Alice. We’ll keep you right. Marjie’s gonna love you, if you don’t mind her skin color.”</p><p>“Why would I,” Alice insisted. “I just helped fight a war about oppressing people for their heritage. I’m not about to come over here and do the same.”</p><p>Ruth’s smile only widened. “You’re alright now. Come on, let’s go find the drinks. Are you a wine, whiskey, beer, or vodka girl?”</p><p>“Wine, please.”</p><p>With a nod, she led the way. “Well, can’t win em all. This place never has good beer, though. Wine it is now.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter Fifteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>February 9, 1946</strong>
</p><p>Alice woke to the sun on her face. Somehow it felt golden, which she couldn’t explain beyond just knowing it to be true. It warmed her, her cheeks flushing even as she avoided opening her eyes. Nix was definitely still asleep; she could feel his arm across her abdomen, her head against his cheek, the steady rise of his chest. For a moment, she just breathed. </p><p>When at last she opened her eyes, Alice couldn’t help but just smile up at the ceiling. Her ceiling. Their ceiling. For years, Alice had searched for three things always just out of reach; home, family, belonging. She’d found them each separately, but never as one. And she’d lost them. Every time, something had made her lose them.</p><p>She’d lost that sense of belonging with her countries. She’d lost home and family in the bar in Paris. She’d regained a sense of belonging and family in Easy, but it had taken years. And even then, home had felt just out of reach, like she could brush it with her fingertips, but no matter how hard she strained to reach home, it eluded her. Certain people had been echoes of home; George, Bill, Harry, Dick. Each of them, they’d been a part of home, but never home itself.</p><p>And then she’d found Nix. Alice shifted slightly in the bed, trying not to cause the mattress to spring too much. But she wanted to see him. She wanted to see the way his hair got all messy every night in bed no matter how much he tried to keep it presentable. She wanted to see the peace in his face when he slept, untouched by the war and the politics and the stress of life in New Jersey. She wanted to see the way his steady breathing moved the sheets.</p><p>Though his right arm was over her, his left had gotten scrunched up near his chest and face. On her side now, she could reach it. But she didn’t want to wake him. Instead, Alice closed her eyes again, took a breath, and put her own hand to her chest, touching the skin beneath the tank top she’d put on the previous night. Somehow, being able to feel the steady beating of her own heart helped calm her nerves. Gene had suggested it in his letter after her birthday. </p><p>She always tried to avoid touching the scar tissue from the bullet she’d taken in the Alps. Years later, it still felt different to the rest of the skin, an indent with an unnatural smoothness in parts, and roughness in others. Imperfection. She didn’t mind the imperfection itself, but the memories it conjured up, memories of stakeouts and sniper rifles and blood pouring out of herself and her victims, they were uncomfortable on the best of days, and traumatizing on the worst.</p><p>The firm pressure of her hand against her skin steadied. Her chilly hand became warmer, matching the temperature of her core, and she just took another deep breath through her nose. The steady beat continued beneath her palm. It felt a bit like peace, an echo of peace.</p><p>It reminded Alice that she was alive. Not just alive, but moving forward. She’d found a home, a belonging, a family. Not just an echo, but a firm melody. Alice couldn’t help the small smile at her analogy. A melody. A duet.</p><p>A duet. Her smile widened at the thought. Today was the day. Paperwork was done, waiting time was done. Nix knew a guy in Princeton, a friend of his, a judge who said he’d get them in for the legal wedding ceremony. Dick would witness. Then they’d be married. She’d get to leave behind the memories and pain of Klein, and take on a potentially new pain in Nixon. But at least it’d be a true duet, and not some sort of operatic aria.</p><p>Her eyes closed again. She let her hand fall from her chest back to the mattress and pillow, where she accidentally hit Nix’s own. She could feel him stiffen in the mattress. She pretended to sleep, hoping he wouldn’t worry about getting up. It was still early. Definitely still early for him, at least.</p><p>Alice found she enjoyed mornings. She enjoyed them more since they’d entered Austria, when mornings meant quiet peace, simplicity. Nix called her crazy. Alice called herself lucky. </p><p>“I know you’re awake,” Nix muttered, face still half in the pillow. He grabbed her hand where it’d fallen next to his. “I was an intelligence officer for a reason.”</p><p>“Go back to sleep,” she insisted. Still with her eyes closed, she added, “You’re less annoying when you’re unconscious.”</p><p>The half laugh, half scoff he responded with made her own smile grow. Silence followed. Alice assumed he’d taken her advice to heart. Opening her eyes, she snorted a laugh when he was just staring at her, eyes a bit bleary.</p><p>“You’re staring,” she commented. </p><p>“I’ve got a good view.”</p><p>Alice grinned. “Really? Tell me more.”</p><p>He smirked. Pushing himself up a bit, he just continued to grin and Alice rolled her eyes. When he put a kiss on her neck, she shivered but didn’t protest. “Future Mrs. Lewis Nixon. How’s that sound.” He continued on.</p><p>She grinned, turning her head to intercept his continued inspection of her neck. “I don’t know. Klein’s got a certain ring to it.”</p><p>“No,” he argued. “I’ve got the ring.”</p><p>With a laugh, she just pushed him away. It worked for about half a second before he was back on her, making her laugh the whole time between kisses. Finally, she shook him off and sat up. She twisted to look back where he’d laid down across both pillows. “You’re a disgrace.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. My dad reminds me that all the time,” he added. But he was grinning. “He seems to say it more since you showed up, though.”</p><p>“I didn’t realize I had that kind of power,” she teased. </p><p>Running her hand through her hair, Alice tried to straighten the wavy, slightly knotted strands. Her gaze drifted to the mirror on Nix’s vanity at his side of the room. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Aryan. She shivered, dropping her hands back to her side. </p><p>“Nix.” All humor evaporated as her tone went dead serious. She felt tears in her eyes, but she didn’t want them to fall. Not on her wedding day. Turning back towards him, she took a breath. “Do you want kids?” She watched as he seemed to almost stop breathing. </p><p>Sitting up as well, he ran a hand through his hair. “Do you want kids?”</p><p>“Adélaïde did,” she said, voice quivering for a moment. Her mind went back to Frannie in Philadelphia, and Eugene in her harms. “I don’t know now. I don’t know how I could ever... touch something that perfect, and small, and innocent. I don’t know how. But I guess, whatever part of me is still Adélaïde wants that.”</p><p>Nix was silent for a moment. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Her mind raced, trying to figure out where Adélaïde ended and Alice began as frequently happened when such topics came up. She wondered if Nix ever thought of Nixon separate from Lewis. Or was she alone in feeling like two separate people some days?</p><p>“Well. I fell in love with both of you,” he finally said. “I never thought about kids until I met you,” he added. “Jesus, I didn’t even like the idea of marriage until I met you, and I was married.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help but flash him a small smile. He wasted no time in making it a grin by placing a kiss on her lips. Her gaze went to the clock on the wall. “We need to get up.” And though he protested, falling back into the bed, Alice pushed herself out and got to her feet. With a small laugh, she grabbed undergarments and went to the bathroom.</p><p>Nix rolled his eyes as the door shut. But he smiled. Years later and being able to make her laugh still meant the world. She shouldn’t have to cry. It wasn’t right. </p><p>But the fact that the laugh came at the expense of her refusing him the sight of her getting dressed made him shake his head. She was right, of course. They had to get up. John said to meet him at the Courthouse in Princeton by eleven. Dick would be at the house soon. </p><p>And she knew that the way to get him out of bed was to change somewhere else. Shit. He’d planned a marriage to a genius. Nix snickered to himself as he finally crawled out of bed. Two could play at that game, though.</p><p>She laughed again when she came in and he’d already dressed. “I see you understood my threat.”</p><p>“I was an intelligence officer for a reason,” he echoed.</p><p>Alice shook her head. “So was I, Lewis Nixon. So was I.”</p><p>“Yeah but you worked under me,” he added. “Still do.”</p><p>With another laugh, she just threw her sleep stuff in his face and pulled on her nicest cocktail dress. It was a light blue. Nix said it complimented her eyes. The fact that he liked the blue made her a little less hostile to her own appearance. If he could accept it, she could learn to do it too.</p><p>Dick had let himself in when they finally made their way down the stairs. He was petting Aria in the front room. When Alice’s clicking heels betrayed their presence, he stood up again and looked over. “Honestly, never thought I’d see the day.”</p><p>“We got here,” Alice said. She took a deep breath. “Took a while.”</p><p>“Ready?” Nix asked. </p><p>When they all nodded, Alice smiled. A small one, a bit nervous, a bit sad that her family wouldn’t be there with her. But Dick was family. So that was okay. </p><p>By the time they reached the courthouse, it was nearly eleven. Nix’s friend John, a courthouse judge, led them inside. Alice found her thoughts racing so fast she couldn’t keep track of everything. They verified her citizenship. Alice felt so thankful to Sink for securing her citizenship during Austria. Documentation was checked, including proof of Nix’s divorce. With most of the legal stuff out of the way, they stepped aside for a moment. All they had to do was sign the final papers, Dick as witness, John as officiant, and they’d be married.</p><p>When Nix showed her the ring, she started tearing up. It was simple, elegant, gold. He told her it was like her hair, and her laugh, and her smile. That’s when she really started crying. Nix just held her, knowing how many emotions and memories were probably filling her head. He ran a hand through her hair, which she’d left mostly undone. It looked almost like it had in Austria.</p><p>It took almost five minutes for her to get a hold of herself. Based on the way both John and Dick had been silent, Alice figured the former knew more about their story than most other people in the States. </p><p>Her hand shook as she signed the paper. She went first. She wanted to get it done. She wanted to be able to see the ink dry. Then Nix. Then Dick. And then she realized it was done.</p><p>She was married. Somehow, that fact made her realize that maybe Nix had been right all along. She was Alice, she was Adélaïde, she was both. She was one person, a very complicated, very messy, very broken, but also very grateful person. She had Nix. She had her duet. </p><p>It didn’t bother her that the kiss felt like most others. If anything, it reminded her that they’d been as close as a duet for a while. It did bother her that she had started crying again.</p><p>“Damn it,” she huffed, pulling back from Nix. “Why can’t I stop. This is pathetic. I fought in a damn war!”</p><p>Nix and Dick both started laughing. They thanked John for his help, and he just nodded, smiling. The man wasn’t too much older than they themselves. Was he married?</p><p>When they walked outside, the cold had warmed a bit. Still chilly, but not freezing. The perfect weather. As they stood by Nix’s car, they stopped. Alice wasted no time in grabbing Dick in a hug and staying there for several beats. </p><p>“Keep him out of trouble,” Dick reminded her. </p><p>While he protested, she just chuckled. “Always.”</p><p>“Half the time you cause the trouble too,” Dick reminded her.</p><p>“Apologies in advance when Stanhope gets my letter on Monday,” Nix told him. “Ruth volunteered to drop it off, though. I told her he was going to yell, and all she said was good.”</p><p>“What’s it say?” Dick asked.</p><p>“The basics. We got married. We didn’t tell anyone. We ran off to Europe. We’ll be back in a couple weeks,” Nix said.</p><p>Alice laughed. “The basics.” While they all snickered, Dick shaking his head, knowing he’d be in for a storm on Monday when he went into work, she just smiled. Then she looked at him. “Keep track of Aria and Spot! I told them to be good,” she added.</p><p>“You two get going. Your flight’s in a few hours, and you’ve gotta get to New York,” he reminded them. “Say hello to Millie for me.”</p><p>Alice grinned. She would. They would. Together.</p><p>A duet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>331k words later. We made it ladies and gents.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter Sixteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>February 10, 1946</strong>
  <br/>
  <em>London, England</em>
</p><hr/><p>“Mrs. Lewis Nixon.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help but smirk at her own words. As she sat up beneath the sheets, she closed her eyes. A gentle pitter-patter of midnight rain sounded on the single window in their hotel room in London.</p><p>Nix moved across the room from where he’d been changing. The bed moved as he shifted up next to her. “You gonna start calling me Lewis now, Mrs. Lewis Nixon?” he teased.</p><p>Alice took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne and her newly washed hair filling her nose. She opened her eyes. Staring back at her was her husband. At the thought, Alice smiled again. “Should I?”</p><p>When his hands cupped her face, Alice shuddered. She let him turn her head and pull her into a kiss. His hands moved to her hair, and she pushed deeper into the embrace. It felt right. He felt like home, all of home. She didn’t have to keep searching, because no matter where they went, as long as they were together, she would have a home. Adélaïde had gotten what she wanted.</p><p>Alice choked on a sob at the thought. It almost hurt to pull back, to break the beautiful tension. But emotions overwhelmed her, and she had to calm down. Alice felt herself shaking. “I’m sorry,” she apologized through her tears. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>Everything and nothing. But she didn’t know what to say. It didn’t make sense. She’d slept with him dozens of times. She couldn’t explain it. Alice shot up from the bed, bouncing a bit as she scrambled to the floor. Her white tank top had wet spots from her tears even as she poured herself a glass of Vat 69 from the vanity.</p><p>“Damn it,” she hissed to herself. Her heart pounded in her chest, from stress and from love and from the many contradictory emotions. It confused her. Thoughts of the war filled her mind, the blood and the cold and the hatred and despair.</p><p>But then she turned around. Nix still sat on the bed. Lewis Nixon. Her husband, shirt off, hair still messy and wet from his shower, looked at her with so much concern and love that she couldn’t help but smile and choke back another sob. “Nothing’s wrong.” And yet her stress continued to rise. “Shit. Nothing’s wrong. What’s wrong with me!”</p><p>All she could think about was Skip and the way he’d regale the company with all the ways he planned to show Faye how much he loved her. It had kept them going, some days. Alice coughed again. With every cough, her anxiety spiked.</p><p>“Hey! Hey,” Nix said. He scrambled off the bed as she grabbed at her chest again. “You’re not getting sick. Alice look at me!”</p><p>Another harsh sob escaped her. “God damnit.”</p><p>This wasn’t how she’d planned the night of her wedding to go. She’d not imagined herself standing in a hotel room in London. She’d not imagined herself struggling to breathe from the anxiety racing through her. Her vision blurred. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>But he said nothing. Instead, he just pulled her into an embrace. Alice rested her face on his warm skin, forcing herself to calm down. She could hear his heart beating. The steadiness made her pause. She took several deep breaths.</p><p>“It’s our wedding day. You can’t cry,” he muttered. Her hair muffled his voice. “You can cry after we have to say goodbye to England.”</p><p>Alice laughed at his joke. But she didn’t move, still relishing the safety of the firm embrace. With each breath she calmed down more. She focused on the surrounding sounds instead of her own overwhelmed emotions. The pounding rain, the ticking of the clock on the wall, her own unsteady breathing, the beating of her heart, she tried to focus on those. Alice didn’t know how long they’d stood there, but eventually, she pulled away and looked at him. Home.</p><p>“I love you,” she said. Her voice shook with all different emotions. Wiping the tears off her face, she chuckled at the absurdity. “I love you.”</p><p>He smirked. “Good. Because you share my name now.”</p><p>“Mrs. Lewis Nixon,” she repeated.</p><p>Alice laughed through her few remaining tears. They were married. They’d flown across an ocean to escape the prying eyes of the United States’ socialites. They’d fought a war and won. Home would be wherever they decided it would be.</p><p>When he kissed her a second time, she melted at the touch. No matter how many times Lewis Nixon kissed her, Alice felt the same joy. The air in the room always disappeared. It irked her, too, that he knew exactly what the trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone did. Her head spun as she desperately pushed him back to the bed, breaking the kisses.</p><p>“I don’t think we’re officially married yet,” he muttered. “It needs to be consummated.”</p><p>Alice grinned. “I think I read that somewhere, too.” She let out a light laugh as he grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed next to him. Her body felt like it was on fire as he rolled on top of her. She chuckled again. It would be a long night.</p><p>When she woke to sunlight streaming through the small window in their hotel room, Alice groaned. 0800. They’d only gone to bed two hours ago. Time changes. Struggling against the urge to get up and use the bathroom, she just stayed staring at Lewis Nixon across from her. Lewis. She smirked to herself.</p><p>When he opened his eyes, she tried to force down the smile. But she’d been caught. He groaned and closed his eyes again. “Too early,” he slurred.</p><p>Alice scoffed at him. Since he was already awake, she shifted out from under his arm and tiptoed to the bathroom. By the time she’d gotten back, he still hadn’t reopened his eyes. Pushing back the sheets, she crawled back into bed. He opened his eyes again. She loved the brown of his eyes. They just looked so warm.</p><p>“I hope our kids have brown eyes,” she said. At her words, she froze. The thought had come out without her consent. She hadn’t meant to verbalize it. “I just...”</p><p>He propped himself up on his left arm. “Why?”</p><p>Her throat clenched. Falling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling. She knew why. But she’d never said it aloud. When Nix prompted her again, she turned back to him. “I just don’t like blue eyes anymore.” Alice paused. “They remind me of Germany.”</p><p>Instead of laughing, or making a joke as she half expected, he grabbed her hand. Alice closed her eyes. The faces she’d seen at Kaufering IV stared back, mocking her. They haunted her dreams.</p><p>“I hope our kids have the same color eyes as their mother,” he told her. Using his thumb, he wiped away the tears that fell from her closed eyes. He sighed again. “Why did you start crying earlier?”</p><p>Alice looked at him again. She smiled. “Home.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Pushing herself up, she sat hugging the bedding to the loose paratrooper tee she’d pulled on before going to sleep. She turned to him. “You.” Her voice cracked. “I spent the last decade of my life fighting to find my way back home. I just didn’t expect home to be a person.” With a tiny smile, she just shook her head, her hair falling into her face. “Mrs. Lewis Nixon.” Another deep breath, and her smile widened. “I got married.”</p><p>Nix laughed. He sat up too. “I know. I was there.”</p><p>It was her turn to laugh. Alice trailed off, staring out the slightly uncovered window. It took a moment to recover. But then she turned back to him. “For the first time in years...” Her voice cracked again, and her face scrunched up. She took a deep breath. “I felt a little like Adélaïde.”</p><p>A quiet pause fell over the room. After several moments of just the sounds of their breathing, he replied. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I love you.” With a quick motion, he pushed the golden hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. It made her smile. Jesus, that smile. He leaned in and kissed her again. “Adélaïde,” he tried.</p><p>She giggled at his attempt. “I thought you were better at french, mon amour.”</p><p>He huffed. “I’m fantastic at French. It’s why you fell in love with me.”</p><p>“There’s the arrogant jerk,” she teased. Alice laughed again and shook her head. As the sun fell on her face, she took a deep breath and smiled. “Lewis.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s only fair. If you try Adélaïde, I get to try Lewis.” She turned and looked at him. With a smirk, she pushed some hair out of his face. “Lewis. Spina’s daughter Carol thinks you have a stupid name, by the way.”</p><p>“What!”</p><p>Alice cackled as he just scoffed and shook his head. “Her words, not mine. Lewis.”</p><p>“It’s a fantastic name!”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>They both burst out laughing. Once Alice had control of herself again, her cheeks hurting from laughing so hard, she looked at the clock. Almost 9:00 am. Millie said she’d reach London by noon. She turned back to him.</p><p>“We should get up, Lewis.”</p><p>He chuckled, but soon made his way over to the quarter full bottle of Vat 69. He poured himself a drink. “Cheers.”</p><p>“What are we drinking to?” she asked. Alice joined him in leaning against the dresser.</p><p>Nix filled her shot glass. “To us.”</p><p>She smiled. “To home.”</p><p>“To running away from responsibilities and never going back.”</p><p>With another laugh, she nodded. “I’ll drink to that.”</p><p>They downed their shots together. Together. Alice smiled at the bottle of Vat 69 that Lewis held in his hand. As he refilled her shot glass, she took a deep breath. He was Nix. She was Alice. Her smiled widened. He was Lewis. She was Adélaïde. Even though she knew, they both knew, they couldn’t run away from New Jersey forever, for the remaining six days in England, they’d pretend.</p><p>“Jesus Christ, I’m exhausted,” Nix muttered. “Can’t we go back to bed.”</p><p>“To sleep?” When he just snickered, Alice smirked. “Come on, we need breakfast.”</p><p>But he’d already grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him. She couldn’t help but smirk again. Damn his eyes, and his shirtless body. “Nix...” He cut her off with a kiss. All she wanted to do was yell at him for distracting her. But she couldn’t. She felt herself giving in, the heat filling her body. So she just kissed him back.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter Seventeen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>February 23, 1946</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Nixon, New Jersey</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The honeymoon passed in a whirlwind. They spent some time with Millie and her sisters, taking a few days in Aldbourne just relaxing. Going back to reality had taken significant effort. But they’d boarded the plane all the same. They’d said farewell to England and waltzed back into the lives of the East Coast socialites.</p><p>Only now, as Alice messed with her hair for a fourth time in front of the mirror, Alice would have to navigate the working class. She was no stranger to work. In Paris, they’d been well off but not wealthy, and she couldn’t remember too much of being among the elite in Germany. Then she’d fought a war for four years. </p><p>“Stop messing with it!”</p><p>She glanced towards the open door of their bedroom. Lewis stood with a tiny smirk on his face, hair well groomed and eyes shining with mirth. Arietta tried to nudge past him. Alice sighed. But she put the brush back on the vanity and stepped back.</p><p>“You’re worrying for nothing,” Lewis added. “Come on.”</p><p>Alice glanced up at him. She’d sunk to her knees and started petting Aria between the ears. But at his light teasing, she narrowed her eyes. “You can’t understand.”</p><p>“What?” He took a small drink from his flask. He continued on with his joke. “Alice, your my wife. They legally can’t hate you.”</p><p>She just scoffed, trying and failing to suppress a grin at his naivety. “It’s because I’m your wife that they might. They look at me and they’re going to see the foreign girl who got a job by being the wife of the Nixon heir.” Standing up, she shook her head. “Come on. Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”</p><p>“Woah, hold on.” Lewis grabbed her arm as she marched passed, smile faltering. When she turned his way, he just shook his head. “I thought you wanted the secretary job?”</p><p>“I do, I do.” She sighed. “Never mind. Come on.”</p><p>He didn’t seem satisfied. But she left no room for argument, hurrying out the door and down towards the stairs. When her heels clicked against the bottom step, Alice just grabbed her coat and took a deep breath. Day one of working at the Nixon Nitration Works. She hoped it went well.</p><p>When they pulled up to the headquarters, Alice had to calm her nerves. She had to stop her leg from shaking. She had to make her breathing slow. On her left, Lewis just looked a bit annoyed about having to go to work. But before either of them opened the doors, he turned to her.</p><p>“You’ve got Ruth to show you around,” he said. “She knows I’ll pay her extra if she keeps you happy.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help the smile that cracked through her nervousness. Of course he’d said that. “Bribery, Lewis Nixon?”</p><p>“Of course,” he told her. As they both opened the doors and straightened themselves, he just joked, “That’s how the Nixons got rich.”</p><p>With a light laugh, Alice closed her door. “That wouldn’t surprise me at all.” </p><p>The chilly walk to the front of the office buildings didn’t take very long at all. Lewis opened the door for her, and she stepped inside. A couple of women sat at desks at the front, their eyes immediately turning upwards at the opening of the door. One blonde, one brunette, both couldn’t have been too much older than Alice. </p><p>“Good morning, Mr. Nixon, Mrs. Nixon!” </p><p>They turned left and found Ruth hurrying towards them, coffee cup in her hand. Under her arm was her clipboard and she had a pencil behind her ear. Alice smiled and said good morning. </p><p>“Thanks Ruth.” Lewis took the coffee. “What’s the word around the office?”</p><p>“The usual, sir,” was all she said. But her tiny smirk said otherwise, and as Nixon gestured for her to walk so they could join. As they moved down the hallway, her grin widened. “Lewis, your father went absolutely bonkers after that letter you left.”</p><p>Lewis started laugh between sips of his coffee. “How’d Dick handle it?”</p><p>“You are quite mean, you know that,” Ruth told him. Turning to Alice, she shook her head. “I don’t know how you handle him, love.”</p><p>“Neither do I.”</p><p>They continued past offices with frosted windows. At the one with big, black letters spelling “STANHOPE NIXON” they all grimaced. But they kept moving. </p><p>“Mr. Winters got here about twenty minutes ago,” Ruth told him. “So you can ask him yourself.”</p><p>She led them up a flight of stairs. At the top and two offices down, she came to a stop. A small piece of paper had been taped on the door that read “RICHARD WINTERS”. With a smirk at them, Ruth gave it two knocks and then opened it up. </p><p>“Guess who’s back?” Ruth sing-songed. “The man who left you for the wolves.”</p><p>Alice couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Dick sitting behind his desk. He had a window, and a small plant in the corner of his paper-riddled desk. But the man just glared, mouth in a thin line as he sat back and molded himself to the chair. Dick tossed his pencil back onto his desk.</p><p>“Miss me, Dick?” Lewis asked. But he couldn’t suppress his laughter. He stopped trying. Instead, he turned back to Ruth, and grinned. “For Christ’s sake, has he been this mad the whole goddamn time?”</p><p>“Off and on,” she told him. With a last smile at them, she turned to Alice. “I’ll come get you in a few minutes, Alice. We’ve got work t’ do.”</p><p>“Thanks, Ruth.”</p><p>As the door closed, Dick still hadn’t said anything. He just looked at Lewis with abject disappointment. It didn’t do anything to curb his amusement, though. So Alice stepped in.</p><p>“Was it that bad, Dick?” Alice asked, grimacing.</p><p>At her question, he sighed. “Stanhope wasn’t happy.” </p><p>“Of course he wasn’t,” Lewis said. He took one of the two chairs in front of Dick’s desk and sat down. Then he took a drink of his flask. “That’s why I left him a letter.”</p><p>Alice sighed. “I’m sorry, Dick. It shouldn’t have fallen back on you.” She took the other chair, straightening her dress as she did so. </p><p>“It’s not your fault, Alice,” he insisted. Dick pointed at Lewis. “It’s his.” </p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“But how was England?” Dick turned from Lewis. He offered Alice a smile. “Is Millie doing well?”</p><p>“Oh she’s great,” Alice told him. “A gem, as always. Percy’s so big now. And we got to see Madeleine and Maggie as well.”</p><p>“That’s good.”</p><p>Lewis just rolled his eyes and smirked. They spent a few minutes catching Dick up on what they’d done while in England. Dick then told them all about the Monday morning where Stanhope had gone on a rampage through the complex, going on and on about his failure of a son and the whore he’d hooked up with. They all grimaced at the slur towards Alice, but she’d expected as much. He explained that Ruth had done an admirable job containing the rumors, though. </p><p>A double knock on the door was followed by Ruth’s reappearance. She smiled at them. “Alice, I need show you around the place.”</p><p>She smiled, nerves creeping in. She’d not really walked around the complex of administrative buildings that Nixon Nitration Works had along the Raritan River. But as Ruth offered her another bright smile, she nodded.</p><p>“Hey, Ruth, remember, I’ll pay you extra,” Lewis told her.</p><p>But Alice just rolled her eyes as she gathered herself with Ruth by the door. “I’m sure Ruth doesn’t need to be bribed, Lewis.”</p><p>“No, but I’ll always take the extra money,” Ruth added. They both laughed as they shut the door on the men. “Come, then. Not too much to see. We were able to get you a job as Mr. Winters’ secretary.”</p><p>Alice beamed. “Really?” They had talked about trying to set that up, but apparently Stanhope had tried to stop it. How they’d managed to get the position filled, she had no clue. “That’s fantastic.”</p><p>“Are you a better typist than he is?” Ruth asked. “Cause that man takes far too long on his typewriter so.”</p><p>With a laugh, Alice nodded. “Don’t worry, Ruth. I’m definitely better than him.”</p><p>They moved through the office, taking the stairs down to the first floor. Ruth pointed out the offices of various important people as they went, describing the men to her in colorful terms as long as everyone was out of earshot. Once they’d finished the first building, Ruth pushed open a door to the outside. </p><p>“This way’s got the supplies you may need. It’s also where we do most our work when not making sure the men are put together,” Ruth said. She led Alice across an outdoor space, filled with grass and a few trees between the buildings. They took one of the concrete walkways. “Remember, your number one job is make sure Mr. Winters is where he needs t’ be, when he needs t’ be, with what he needs, now.”</p><p>“Right.” </p><p>Alice remembered the way Dick’s orderlies had scurried around. They’d fetched coffee, food, reports, everything. While Dick had insisted on doing most of the reports himself, she guessed back here in civilian life, she’d be in charge making sure a good deal of it got done. She’d take dictations at the least, she was sure.</p><p>A twinge of irritation at starting at the bottom crept back in. She had been a soldier, an officer in the war. But she stuffed it down. At least she had a job. She’d heard about the women in America losing many of their positions to their husbands and sons returning from the war. She had a job. That was all that mattered.</p><p>“Right this way, now, Alice.” </p><p>She followed Ruth into the building. It was much smaller, with only a single woman at a front desk. She had a polite, though fake, smile on her face as Ruth and Alice walked by. They took the right hand hallway around until they stood before a door into a large kitchenette and cafeteria space.</p><p>“This is where you’ll take your meals,” Ruth told her. They moved inside, and she pointed out the long tables. “We’ve got shared office space above, like the low men on the totem pole in the other building.”</p><p>As they stood in the empty area, Alice just trying to retain all the information Ruth threw her way, they heard the clicking of heels in the hallway. Both looked up as someone walked in and paused. She was Black, with dark hair perfectly styled up against her head and simple makeup. Ruth grinned. </p><p>“Marjie! There you are.” She beckoned over. “Alice Nixon, meet Marjorie Williams. Grade-A typist and the best person in this whole fecking place.”</p><p>“Good morning Mrs. Nixon,” Marjorie said, smiling sweetly. She nodded to her. “An honor to meet you, ma’am.”</p><p>Alice smiled. “You too. Ruth told me about you at the dinner we attended. And please, don’t call me ma’am. Even the people at my job with the army were asked not to,” she added. Thoughts of Shifty popped into her mind, and her smile fell a bit. But she pushed it away. </p><p>“That’s mighty nice of you,” Marjorie said. She nodded. “Were you showing her the place, Ruth?”</p><p>“That I was. Anyone upstairs we should know about?” Ruth asked. </p><p>Marjorie huffed, rolling her eyes a bit. But she glanced sidelong at Alice. Ruth caught on, and beat her to the punch.</p><p>“Marjorie, this girl may be hated even more than you are, here,” Ruth told her. “Trust me. She’s a good egg.”</p><p>“Irene’s throwing a bit of a fit over something,” Marjorie finally told them. “I came on down here to get away from her.”</p><p>Ruth snorted. “Good choice.” She turned to Alice. “Irene Cox. She’s loved by more than half Stanhope’s staff. And Stanhope himself, if you get what I mean. You wouldn’t be able to miss her. Tall, blonde, has a perky little nose that could fit in a goddamn bottle cap. Sharp as a tack, and will stab you in the back like one too.” Ruth huffed. “The woman ain’t satisfied with being a secretary. I don’t blame her. But she thinks sleeping her way through the building will advance her career.”</p><p>“It might Ruth,” Marjorie muttered. “She’s got a way with the men.”</p><p>“And the women,” Ruth added, looking at Alice. “If she likes you, you’re set. If she don’t, she’ll make your life fecking hell.”</p><p>Alice frowned. Sounded a bit like the politics of lycée. High school, if she remembered the American term correctly. “And she’d doesn’t like you two, I’m guessing?”</p><p>“Oh no,” Ruth assured her. “Not even a bit. She tried to get my position. Even got ‘ol Stanhope to try and push it through. Lewis refused. Said he couldn’t work with her. She hates me for that, and because I’m a poor little Irish girl. And Marjorie’s a Negro, so that’s enough for Irene sure.”</p><p>“Disgusting,” Alice muttered. </p><p>Marjorie nodded, glaring a bit at the floor. She stood a few inches taller than Alice. Turning to her, Marjorie just shrugged. “You’ve already got a target on your back, Alice. If you want to be in her good graces, you better make a choice.”</p><p>“What choice?” Alice scoffed. “I’m a German and French Jew, ladies. I’m used to being hated.” She shook her head, pointing back towards the door. “I helped fight a war to end this sort of thing. So this time, I’ll choose to be an outcast. Gladly.”</p><p>Ruth grinned and shook her head, patting Marjorie on the arm. “Told you. She’s a good one. Lewis chose well, Marjie.”</p><p>“Mr. Nixon certainly did,” Marjorie agreed.</p><p>“In that case, we better show you where we women are. You know, where the actual work gets done around Nixon Nitration Works,” Ruth added. </p><p>Alice smiled at her. She felt more at peace than she had in a long time, perhaps since returning to the States. She’d finally made a choice. She had a direction. She would have friends. Good friends, not friends who she could use to climb the social ladder. But she had Nixon for that, if she wanted it. So as they left Marjorie to sit in the break room, Alice followed Ruth towards the stairs. She could do this. She had to.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter Eighteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>March 15, 1946</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Another day, another night in the spotlight. Though Alice had to admit that the sheer number of fancy dresses and makeup she got to buy these days made the transition to socialite easier. Lewis took her arm as they moved towards the massive estate that Stanhope had chosen for that night's get together. Something about trying to build connections with a few of New York's more high society families. Lewis had mentioned that Nixon Nitration Works' profits had taken a small downward turn, and Stanhope wanted to stop that.</p>
<p>"Think your father will be in a good mood tonight?" Alice asked. She glanced left at him as they approached the door. "Or will he be as horrible as ever?"</p>
<p>"Beware the Ides of March," Lewis teased.</p>
<p>Alice couldn't help but grin at his joke as they passed through the door. Beware the Ides of March, indeed. The only thing predictable about Stanhope Nixon was how unpredictable he could be in the most negative ways possible. But Dick would be there, and Ruth as well, though she was helping with organization and running the thing. Marjorie had been left off the list again, something that Alice couldn't help but get worked up about. Lewis had done what he could. He'd tried to get her on the list, tried to work with Ruth to see how to fit her in. But both Marjorie Williams and Leah Nakahara had been tasked with early morning shifts and dismissed.</p>
<p>"Dick better be here already." Lewis took the coat off Alice's back as they stood in the entrance of the grand estate. A worker took it and his own from the foyer. As soon as his father's friends spotted him, though, Lewis flipped on his practiced nonchalance. "Thurston! You're looking well. The wife finally stop hounding you about needing to put on weight?"</p>
<p>Alice held her hands behind her back. The man in question, Thurston Tennison, tall and skinny and going bald, shuffled over. He grimaced. "Mildred never shuts up, Lewis." After they clasped hands, he turned to her. "Mrs. Nixon, how are you?"</p>
<p>She smiled. "I'm well, thank you. How's your back?"</p>
<p>He grimaced again, but shrugged. "Better. Still giving me trouble when I bend too much."</p>
<p>"I hope it improves."</p>
<p>"Lewis! Thurston!"</p>
<p>At the call from further in the estate, all of them turned. Stanhope Nixon. He locked eyes with Alice briefly, and she did her best not to glare back. Thurston shouted back that they were coming and laughed, but Lewis just turned to her.</p>
<p>"Go," she muttered, then she smirked. "He misses you."</p>
<p>"And you don't?" he asked.</p>
<p>Alice just chuckled. "I get you every night."</p>
<p>As they stood in the center of the entranceway, the estate looking straight out of some Victorian novel, Lewis grinned. He leaned down to her and whispered to her. He had a plan, as Stanhope stood down the hall glaring at them. Standing on her toes, she kissed him. He deepened it, placing a hand on her back and pulling her closer. She couldn't help but grin as they pulled apart.</p>
<p>"That should piss him off," Lewis whispered.</p>
<p>Alice kissed him one more time. "Go."</p>
<p>She watched as he turned away. Stanhope stood with Thurston at the end of the foyer, the latter grinning much more than Stanhope himself. He looked like a predator there, staring at her with a blazing anger. Alice just shut her mouth and turned away to look for anyone she knew.</p>
<p>A few wives of the older businessmen had gathered in the front room to her left. She recognized only two. They never quite approved of her. She'd heard from Ruth that most of the older women spoke of her as a Parisian "free spirit." According to Ruth, that meant whore to them. They were cordial to speak to, but never friendly.</p>
<p>It was times like these that Alice missed Easy Company most. She didn't doubt Lewis would include her soon enough, but until then, she was lonely in the house filled with socialites. They were a high society, too high for her to reach. She could wear the clothes and the jewelry and marry into the family, but she was never one of them. Alice had made her peace with that not long after coming to that realization, but the loneliness stung, especially when she remembered what it was like to be surrounded by men who would die for each other.</p>
<p>That was a friendship Alice knew she'd never replicate. That was a bond that formed only in war. Perhaps the only good thing to come of the horror they'd endured. She may not have particularly liked every soldier she'd worked with, but she'd known they would die for her, and she for them. The socialite politics was the other end of that spectrum.</p>
<p>She moved further in, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter with a small thank you. The bubbly alcohol soothed her nerves a bit. She still hadn't seen Ruth. She hadn't seen Dick either. So she kept walking until she found herself outside in the chilly gardens.</p>
<p>The night wore on, soon everyone moving indoors as the sun disappeared. Small plates of food were handed out. Men and women lounged on couches and at tables, socializing more than dining. Alice found Lewis and Dick not long after. She also caught a glimpse of Ruth's red hair as she sped back and forth, making sure everything stayed on track.</p>
<p>"You look nice," Dick told her.</p>
<p>Alice smiled back at him. "Thank you."</p>
<p>"My dad wants us to stay a bit after, help organize the cleanup," Lewis told them. He took a drink from his shot glass and gestured to a few of the groups nearby as the three of them lingered near a fireplace. "This should wrap up in an hour or so."</p>
<p>"Good," Dick muttered.</p>
<p>"Not having fun?" Alice couldn't help but smile at bit as his distress. "Don't feel like you fit in here, Dick? Even after all that time with the Brass?"</p>
<p>Dick shook his head. "This is worse. The Army I understood. This is all..."</p>
<p>"Posturing?" Lewis chuckled. "Yeah. That's the game, Dick. Pieces on a chessboard. You flirt with the young ladies, you down a few drinks, you make friends with the men."</p>
<p>Alice hummed in agreement as she took a drink of her third champagne glass of the night. "How's that girl you talk about? Ethel?"</p>
<p>Dick straightened up. But Alice didn't miss the smile that cracked his perpetual frown that night. "She's good. We're having dinner again tomorrow."</p>
<p>"Aw, Dick's got a date," Lewis teased. "Should we drop in? I want to see this."</p>
<p>Alice shoved him with her shoulder. "Be nice." But then she turned back to Dick and smiled. "When and where? What! I'm curious."</p>
<p>"I'm not telling either of you!"</p>
<p>Lewis and Alice both broke down into laughter at his insistence. It didn't take much longer before they had to mingle with other people again. Alice stayed with them, enjoying being on her husband's arm instead of lingering on the walls. If she had to be in the spotlight, an inevitability that came with being a Nixon, she would do it with Lewis Nixon III at her side.</p>
<p>She met a few of New York's debutantes that night who seemed kind enough, though a few were a bit too consumed in their own lives for her taste. Alice preferred them to the wives of the Nixon Nitration Works businessmen though. And so by the time the night came to a close, and the party broke up, she decided it was a successful evening as much as it could be.</p>
<p>As Alice wandered through one of the rooms, turning off lights and making sure the waiters had cleaned the glasses up, she just took a deep breath. The music had stopped, the chorus of conversations had died. Her eyes wanted nothing more than to close for a good eight hours. It was almost time. Almost time.</p>
<p>"Doing the work of the maids?"</p>
<p>Alice turned around. Stanhope had wandered in, a flask in his hand that reminded her far too much of Lewis'. His footsteps were uneven, body swaying. Thoroughly drunk, then. She stiffened. "Excuse me, I should go."</p>
<p>"No one goes nowhere without me telling them they can," he sneered. He stepped in front of her. "Calm down."</p>
<p>No. Not again. Alice felt chills shoot down her spine. Another drunk man, another isolated room. She could feel herself shaking. She had to get out. But her voice wouldn't work as Stanhope took another step towards her.</p>
<p>"At least Lewis brought hope a pretty one," he slurred. "Bit too feisty, though."</p>
<p>"Get away from me," she hissed.</p>
<p>Stanhope laughed, only once and without humor. His shadow seemed to grow. Pushing past him, Alice tried to get back into the foyer. She wouldn't go through this again. Not again—</p>
<p>A hand grabbed her wrist. Cold hands. Hands on her hips and against a bar wall. In a ship's corridor. Hands everywhere. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.</p>
<p>"Let go of her."</p>
<p>The hands released her. Alice moved back, grabbing her wrist and pulling it towards her chest. Dick stood in front of her, blocking Stanhope from getting near her. She trembled. Not again.</p>
<p>"Get out of the way," he sneered.</p>
<p>But Dick didn't move. "No."</p>
<p>"Get the fuck out of the way, boy."</p>
<p>Stanhope reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pistol. The air left the room as he pointed it straight at Dick. In such close quarters, even shaky as he was with all the alcohol, Stanhope could kill him. Alice remembered another gun pointed at another head. She couldn't breathe again. Not again. Instead of Dick it was Marc, instead of Stanhope it was a Nazi.</p>
<p>"Jesus Christ! Put down the gun!"</p>
<p>Alice glanced left as Lewis came into the room. He stared at the scene in shock. Stanhope had never gone this far, never threatened her or Dick. He moved to stand in front of her as well. Ruth followed him.</p>
<p>"Alice, come now. Let's go," she whispered. Even as Alice flinched at the hand placed on her arm, she didn't let go. "Let's get a drink, yeah?"</p>
<p>She allowed herself to be led out. Lewis and Dick were arguing with Stanhope as they removed themselves, but she blocked it out. She half listened as Ruth brought out her coat and a glass of wine.</p>
<p>She didn't know how long it took before Lewis and Dick joined them outside. But when they did, Ruth stopped rambling to her and turned to back to them.</p>
<p>"I could stab him in the eye with a fecking fork," Ruth snapped. "He tried that with Annie Knox a few months ago, you know. Lucky her husband was in the room over."</p>
<p>Lewis looked at Alice. "Are you okay?"</p>
<p>"I think so," she told him. Then she looked at Dick. "Don't ever do that again!"</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>They all stared at her like she had grown another head. But Alice gritted her teeth against tears. She didn't want to cry. Not again. Not this time.</p>
<p>"I already saw Marc die that way. I will not see it again," she insisted. Her throat clenched, each word painful to get out. "So don't."</p>
<p>No one spoke. She could almost feel Ruth's curiosity at her side, but the woman stayed as quiet as the two men. The silence only broke when a car pulled up, headlights casting long shadows from everything they lit up.</p>
<p>"That's my ride," Ruth told them. She glanced up at Dick and then Lewis. Then she turned to Alice. "Get some sleep."</p>
<p>"You too," Alice told her.</p>
<p>With a final nod and smile, Ruth sqeeze her arm and then hurried to her ride. Soon it was just the three of them. With Ruth gone, Dick spoke up.</p>
<p>"I get to choose who I step in front of a gun for," he told her. "That's not on you, Alice. And it's not for you to decide."</p>
<p>"We've all stepped in front of guns for each other." Lewis looked at her. All the usual humor from his expression was gone. "We're not going to just let some jackass grab you, for Christ's sake."</p>
<p>Alice looked at them. What they said made some sense, but so did the guilt that had followed her for half a decade. She didn't want another death on her heart. Not now. Not after leaving the war.</p>
<p>But she just nodded. With the matter seemingly settled, they moved down the long paved driveway to where they'd parked their cars. Thankfully out here in the countryside, with darkness all around them, lamps guided their way. They drove back the shadows.</p>
<p>"Did you two get the letter from Bill Guarnere?" Dick asked.</p>
<p>Alice grinned. She turned to him as they walked. "Yes. You're going, right?"</p>
<p>"I think I can clear my schedule," he joked. "Indianapolis, right?"</p>
<p>"That's the spot!"</p>
<p>Lewis laughed. "Can't wait to see the look on everyone's faces when we walk up married."</p>
<p>"You mean you two haven't told people?" Dick looked at them in surprise. As they stopped in front of his car, he just laughed. "Good grief."</p>
<p>"Good night, Dick," Alice teased.</p>
<p>She and Lewis both laughed as he got into the car rolling his eyes. Theirs wasn't much farther down the road. Neither said anything, not until they sat inside and started to warm up.</p>
<p>"Any more parties we go to, you stick with me," Lewis finally said. As he started down the road, anger bristling off him again, he just frowned. "Please."</p>
<p>"Don't have to ask me twice."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter Nineteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>May 30th, 1946</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The warm breeze that caught her hair soothed Alice’s nerves. So many months had passed since she’d seen Easy Company. Months of occasional letters, even less frequent phone calls, and a single visit for some. She held on to those memories as she closed the taxi door behind her. All around her she could hear the sounds of normalcy: newspaper salesmen hawking out headlines, footsteps against pavement, cars in the streets of Indianapolis. But for her and for Lewis and Dick beside her, it was anything but normal.</p>
<p>Her anxiety spiked as she looked at the front of the hotel where they were being treated to a meal. Midmorning had come and gone. She couldn’t quite tell if Lewis and Dick were as nervous as she felt; they had seen no one since Harry and Kitty’s wedding. But the overwhelming urge to get back in the taxi and run away hit her like a tidal wave.</p>
<p>“You good?”</p>
<p>Alice looked to her left as Lewis asked her the question. Then she turned around. The taxi sped away. She had nowhere to go but in. Nowhere to go but this reunion she’d been looking forward to for months. But she didn’t know what she would find, and Alice wasn’t sure she had the emotional energy to find out.</p>
<p>She’d talked to Bill a few times in the past month. Harry and Kitty, George, Babe, Lipton and his wife JoAnne, and the Spinas were guaranteed yeses. Johnny and Malarkey had both been guaranteed maybes. The others were a “we’ll see.” But Bill was hopeful. And that was all they could be.</p>
<p>“Come on,” Lewis urged her.</p>
<p>She nodded. Letting her arms fall to her sides, Alice stepped forward towards the hotel entrance. The doors opened for them, and they soon found themselves out of the busy, slightly worn down streets of the city and inside a nice if a bit run-down hotel lobby. A large poster read ‘Welcome Easy Company,’ and Alice couldn’t help but smile through tears.</p>
<p>“Cute,” she choked out. “I wonder what else they’ve got set up.”</p>
<p>Red, white, and blue streamers hung from the ceiling and a few wrapped around the small columns they passed. Following the arrows put up on the wall, she led the way. Lewis and Dick strolled behind her. Her heart pounded.</p>
<p>She saw Bill first. Done up in his uniform just like Dick and Lewis behind her, he stood chatting with a waiter. She steadied her breathing. The sound of her heels clicking on the floor pulled his attention away, and he grinned.</p>
<p>“There you are! You took your sweet fuckin’ time,” he told her.</p>
<p>Alice wasted no time in pulling him into a quick hug. “Well, I have to keep you on your toes.” When she moved away, she smoothed down her pink dress and looked him up and down. “You look good!”</p>
<p>“I do me best.” Then he looked past her. “Major, Captain! Glad you could make it.”</p>
<p>“Hey Bill.” Dick smiled as he took the man’s hand and shook it. “Good work setting all this up.”</p>
<p>“We all appreciate it,” Lewis added. He also shook his hand, “Especially my wife.”</p>
<p>It took a moment for Bill to understand his meaning, but when Alice smacked Lewis on the arm, he gaped at them. “You fucking serious? Jesus Christ!” He rounded on her. “You two got married and didn’t fuckin tell me?”</p>
<p>Lewis broke down laughing and even Dick couldn’t help but chuckle along. Alice, however, glared from her husband back to him. “We haven’t told anyone. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”</p>
<p>“For fuck’s sake.” Bill just shook his head and laughed again. “Jesus. Well, get in there. I’m sure you’ve plenty of people to screw with that news. Congratulations.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” she said. Alice broke into a smile. “Frannie in there?”</p>
<p>“Yeah she’s wanderin’ around somewhere. Probably showing off Eugene.”</p>
<p>Alice grinned. “Naturally.”</p>
<p>Lewis and Dick stood inside the door to the ballroom, the former somehow already with a drink in his hand as they chatted and gave her space. She joined them. She wasted no time in smacking Lewis in the arm again.</p>
<p>“You are not allowed to do that again,” she insisted.</p>
<p>With a small laugh, he agreed. “But I want to brag.”</p>
<p>Alice rolled her eyes. “Fine. You can tell anyone who’s an officer. I get the enlisted.”</p>
<p>The room was pretty full. There must’ve been about fifty men in uniform. She felt bad for thinking it, but Alice had very little interest in talking to anyone who wasn’t from Toccoa. Except maybe Babe, Garcia, and Hashey if they had made it in. She liked them. Besides the veterans, at least two dozen women wandered about.</p>
<p>“Where’d you get the drink?” Alice asked.</p>
<p>Lewis, finishing a sip, gestured to a waiter with a tray full. “Just grab one.”</p>
<p>The next time a tray came close, Alice did just that. With a drink in her hand, she wove in and around the crowd. Beyond the men who stood in small groups, they had arranged a set of round tables. She wanted to make for those.</p>
<p>She grabbed a trio of empty chairs at a table near the front. From there she could watch the room. After she said it was perfectly okay with her, both Lewis and Dick moved off to chat with someone, leaving Alice at her seat. She sipped the champagne and looked around.</p>
<p>More than a few men she recognized, but most of them had joined up after Haguenau. They mingled with each other. It made her smile, knowing that these men had in each other a family. Even if she wasn’t part of theirs, at least they had one. It wasn’t until a couple of guys moved out of the group to grab a spot at another table that her heart nearly stopped. Alice grinned and pushed away from her chair, leaving her purse behind.</p>
<p>“Smokey! Alley!”</p>
<p>They looked up and started grinning. They looked so similar to the last time she’d seen them. And yet, so different. They reminded her more of the day they’d all celebrated their jump wings. Though this time, they looked a lot older.</p>
<p>Alice grabbed Smokey in a hug. Careful not to put too much pressure on him, she tried to cry. She’d spoken to him through letters a few times since they had taken away him in Bastogne. She still remembered the way she’d covered his body as a bomb fell and she and Gene were trying to help the wounded. He’d been asleep, unconscious to keep him from panicking at his paralysis.</p>
<p>And here he stood. Walking, talking, smiling. Alice pulled back from him and grabbed Alley next. They’d said goodbye in Austria. He’d been in one of the first groups discharged and sent home after VJ-Day. Here he was. Smiling, laughing.</p>
<p>“You two look great,” she choked out. “Wow.”</p>
<p>Alley grinned. “So do you! Nice dress. Been awhile since we saw you in anything but a uniform,” he joked.</p>
<p>“I prefer the dresses,” she said. Laughing, she turned back to Smokey. “How are you! Any poems coming to mind for this get together.”</p>
<p>He just hook his head. “It’s pretty crazy, this whole thing. Bill did a great job.”</p>
<p>Before she could respond, Alley interrupted. “Wait, wait. Fuck, is that a ring?”</p>
<p>As they both turned to her, Alice started laughing. She nodded. “Yes. Nix and I got married a couple of months ago. We didn’t tell anyone except for Dick.”</p>
<p>Smokey laughed and Alley just scoffed. “You two are perfect for each other,” he muttered between drinks. Alley gestured back through the crowd. “You’re both crazy.”</p>
<p>After a laugh, she shook her head. “Have either of you seen George?” Alice asked.</p>
<p>“Not yet,” Smokey said. “But I saw Lip over by the dessert tables.”</p>
<p>She thanked them. It took some maneuvering to get around the ever-growing crowd. The turnout blew Alice away. Sure, most of the people she’d seen weren’t Toccoa men, but they were Easy.</p>
<p>“Lip!”</p>
<p>The man turned around at her call, and to her delight, there were both George and Harry. Tears welled in her eyes as they all raised glasses and hollered for her. Before she could get a word in edge-wise, George threw his arm around her shoulder and demanded to know when they’d gotten married.</p>
<p>“Did Nix tell you,” she demanded.</p>
<p>George just laughed. “We’re not stupid. We’ve been comparing notes.” He gestured to Harry and Lip. “It was only a matter of time.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of the two of you,” she countered, looking between them, “where are Kitty and JoAnne?”</p>
<p>“Together,” Harry said. He pointed to a table down the way. “I think they’re sitting with Frannie Guarnere.”</p>
<p>Alice laughed. “Oh no.”</p>
<p>“Yep,” Lip agreed.</p>
<p>She spent several minutes with the three of them. Standing with George, Harry, and Lip felt natural, like she’d never really left. It felt like Aldbourne, the surrounding joy infectious as they all pushed the bad memories away. Effortless conversations flowed, domestic discussions of married life and for George, his new girlfriend Del who had stayed behind in Rhode Island.</p>
<p>For her part, Alice talked about Ruth and Nixon Nitration Works and her job as Dick’s secretary. She talked about England, about Millie, about Dick’s steady girlfriend Ethel. Before long she complained about the treatment Marjorie faced. Realizing she had gotten too worked, Alice excused herself to get a drink of water.</p>
<p>As soon as she’d stepped away, another wave of exhaustion and anxiety crashed over her. Conversations raged on every side. A bit of dizziness came over her. She walked out of the ballroom and into the hall. Leaning against the wall, Alice closed her eyes. She tried to breathe.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?”</p>
<p>She knew that voice, sort of raspy, sometimes full of bite, but more often concern. Her eyes shot open. Alice turned to look right and her heart stopped. “Joe?”</p>
<p>Though it was a question, the answer was obvious. Joe Toye moved down the hall, fidgeting with his hands a bit and looking out of place. Alice shot off the wall and walked over to him. Bursting into tears, she grabbed him in a hug. He was strong, always had been. His clothes still felt a bit cold to her skin. But he was here. After a year and a half of guilt and anger that she’d never gotten to say a goodbye, he was here.</p>
<p>“Scheisse. Shit- Joe.” She broke off from the hug and wiped her face. “Oh, my god. I didn’t know you were coming,” she rambled. “Shit.”</p>
<p>“Bill threatened to drive out and drag me,” he admitted. “You look good! How are you and Captain Nixon?”</p>
<p>“‘You look good?’ That’s what you have to say?” she snapped. “For fuck’s sake... Joe you haven’t even sent a letter in almost a year. That’s what you have to say to me!”</p>
<p>“Hey!” He moved back a bit and gestured at her. “I’m doing my best, ok?”</p>
<p>Alice took a deep breath. She settled her anger. Instead, the tears came back. “Sorry. I know... I just.” Her words caught painfully in her throat. It had stung, not hearing from him. Like losing her brothers again. But he was here now. She would never be able to say that about Marc and Robert. “We got married, actually.”</p>
<p>That made him grin. “About damn time. When?”</p>
<p>“A few months ago.” As they stood in the hall, Alice stuffed down her hurt and instead told Joe all about their house in New Jersey, about their striped cat named Spot and their failed seeing-eye-dog Aria. She told him about her trip to Philly and Rhode Island. She even told him about the way Stanhope hated her. “But we’re making it work,” she ended. “If Lewis ever agrees to quit the business, we talked about moving closer to Princeton. I’d like to get our own house, not one connected to the Nixon family,” she admitted.</p>
<p>For his part, Joe listened and then talked about the girl he’d met. He’d always been a good listener, but Alice wanted more than that. She grinned as he spoke about her. She could see the way her name made him happy. They’d met soon after his release from the hospital.</p>
<p>“Did you bring her?” Alice asked.</p>
<p>Joe shook his head. “Betty stayed back. She’s got a job and didn’t want to take time off.”</p>
<p>“That’s a shame. But at least we get to hear all about her,” Alice told him. “Go on in. Bill’s probably looking for you.”</p>
<p>“Where are you going?”</p>
<p>Alice laughed. “Alright. I’ll come too.”</p>
<p>It didn’t take long for them to have to take seats for lunch. Alice, Lewis, and Dick were seated with Harry, Kitty, and George. George had always been one of the enlisted most friendly with the officers. But it made her laugh how well he got along with Kitty on his right. She didn’t stop smiling the entire time, even as they were treated to chicken for the main course and slices of chocolate cake for dessert. She could eat and smile at the same time.</p>
<p>“How’s Victoria doing,” Alice asked him. At the question, he put down his dessert spoon and rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“She’s a pain,” he muttered. Louder, he tried to explain it to the table, “My sister. She’s trying to throw a huge wedding. It’s hard to throw a huge wedding with as many siblings as we’ve got.”</p>
<p>Alice nodded. “When’s the date?”</p>
<p>“If only I knew.” He shook his head. “If I knew that, I’d be able to help her organize it.”</p>
<p>Kitty chuckled. “Does she have any ideas?”</p>
<p>George sighed. “She wants it in the summer. That’s about all I know. I’m staying out of it.”</p>
<p>The table went back small talk. She took Lewis hand under the table though, giving it a sqeeze as she looked at him. He seemed to be having a good time as well. It had gone even better than she’d expected.</p>
<p>After lunch, groups split off. Johnny had gotten in during the meal, and she’d spent a few minutes with him, trying to make him laugh. He looked good. Said he’d heard from Bull, who sent his regrets that he couldn’t show.</p>
<p>There were many people who didn’t show. Even as the day wound on, Alice lost hope that any of the people she’d yet to hear from would walk through the doors. Gene she knew couldn’t make it; he’d said as much in their last letter. But she kept hoping to see Lieb or Tab walk in.</p>
<p>They didn’t.</p>
<p>She and Lewis went out to dinner with Harry, Kitty, Lip, JoAnne, Joe, Bill, Frannie, George, and Johnny. They had all gotten rooms at the same hotel. Most of them chalked it up to change, but Alice wondered if it hadn’t been more than that.</p>
<p>She hadn’t prayed since the war. Not that she hadn’t wanted to. But she couldn’t. It hurt, and it made her all sorts of angry and bitter. But after dinner as she stood out front of the hotel enjoying a last cigarette before following the others inside, she wondered if God had a hand in it.</p>
<p>“Alice?”</p>
<p>Don Malarkey.</p>
<p>He stood in the light of a streetlamp. She removed her cigarette and covered her mouth. Tears sprung to her eyes. As she forced down the painful lump in her throat, Alice dropped the smoke. “Don!”</p>
<p>She grabbed him. He hugged her back, neither moving for a good thirty seconds. She’d not heard from him since he’d left Paris. She’d heard nothing. Not even a letter. Alice choked out a sob as she moved away.</p>
<p>“I didn’t think you were coming,” Alice sputtered. “I can’t believe it.”</p>
<p>He shuffled where he stood. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure I was coming either,” he admitted. “How are you?”</p>
<p>“How are you!” she insisted. “No one’s heard from you in ages, Don. You look good,” she offered. Then she smiled. “It’s good to see you.”</p>
<p>He smiled. “Yeah same. How many people showed up?”</p>
<p>“A lot,” she said.</p>
<p>Alice told him about the lunch and then the activities afterwards. She told him all about the dinner they’d just come from, where most of the time had been spent making fun of Joe and George for being the only ones at the table not yet married. At that, Malarkey congratulated her.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” she said.</p>
<p>Her chest warmed thinking about how happy the men of Easy seemed to be. Sure, they’d talked about how hard adjusting was, but they’d all sounded hopeful. They had each other. She wanted to ask him about the Muck family, about Faye. But the words caught in her throat. She hadn’t been able to reach out to them. Every time she’d picked up the phone, she’d wrestled with how to start. What to say. How to say it. So she’d put the phone down every time.</p>
<p>“Some of us were going to set up a poker game,” Alice told him. “You should join us.”</p>
<p>He smiled. It made her feel better, seeing him smile like that. So when he agreed, She grabbed his arm and pushed him towards the front door of the hotel. They’d all be happy to see him. Ecstatic more like. She hoped he would feel the same. She hoped, she prayed, that over the next two days, they could all do a bit more healing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter Twenty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>July 10, 1946</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>San Francisco, CA</em>
</p><hr/><p>Doris and Blanche Nixon lived in a house that Alice could only describe as extravagant. She and Lewis got out of their taxi cab together, the warm summer air filled with the scent of blossoms. A handful of trees lined the hill they found themselves on, the next houses a few car lengths to either side of the edge of their lawn. Doris had told them to be ready for lunch when they landed. Alice's stomach growled as she stood on the sidewalk.</p><p>"Welcome to sunny California," Lewis told her. He grinned and gestured to the house. As he did so, the front door opened and his mother stood in the doorway. He grinned. "Speak of the devil."</p><p>Alice laughed at him. She picked up her suitcase and followed as they walked up the driveway. Lewis had told her about their multiple properties; Blanche preferred this one, a bit away from the bustle of the city, whereas the main house was on Lombard Street. She hadn't quite understood the extravagance of it until they'd driven past and she'd seen the crooked street.</p><p>"You look lovely, dear," Doris told her, offering a kiss on either cheek. "You as well, Lewis."</p><p>"Same to you, Mrs. Nixon," Alice told her. They stood in the hall, Alice putting her suitcase on the floor to the right of the door and listening to the laughter further in. One was definitely Blanche. The other she didn't recognize. "I hope we aren't late."</p><p>"Not at all," Doris assured her. She turned to Lewis and pointed him to the rooms upstairs. "Take the bags up, Lewis."</p><p>He scoffed out a laugh but did as he was told. As he disappeared upstairs, Alice followed Doris Nixon further inside. It wasn't a particularly large house, but the windows were tall and the ceilings too. When she walked into the kitchen at the back of the house, she could see down into the city. She also found Blanche grinning from ear to ear where she sat at the table beside a young blonde woman.</p><p>"Alice!" Blanche shot up from the table and gave her two kisses. "I'm so glad you could come out here. Alice, this is Peg, Peg, this is Alice, my brother's wife."</p><p>"Hi!" Peg got up from the table and offered a kiss. "Pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about you."</p><p>Alice chuckled. As she eased herself into a chair across from Peg, she looked at Blanche. "Oh, no."</p><p>"Only good things," Peg insisted.</p><p>"Lewis!" Blanche called. "Get in here."</p><p>It didn't take long for both Doris and Lewis to move into the dining room with them. Both looked happy, Lewis significantly happier than she remembered him looking since the reunion. It just added to her mental list of reasons she wanted him to leave the Nixon Nitration Works. She knew Dick wanted out. Since Stanhope had pulled the gun on him, he'd been loathe to stand in the same room with the man. Alice couldn't blame him.</p><p>"Look at you three, already getting acquainted," he teased. "I better watch out."</p><p>"Nice to see you too, Lew," said Peg. She laughed. Standing out of the table, Peg shared a kiss with him in greeting. "Been a while."</p><p>He agreed. "Too long." Slumping into the last chair at the table, he gestured to Peg. "How's your fiancé? Still in medical school?"</p><p>Peg grinned. With a nod, she pointed at Blanche. "We were just talking about him. BJ's good. He's still at Stanford."</p><p>"Not quite Yale."</p><p>Alice poked him. "Would you stop?"</p><p>He ignored her. "When's the wedding?"</p><p>"We're not sure. We're thinking of waiting until he graduates, before he goes into Residency." Peg sighed. Taking a drink of iced tea, she changed the subject. She turned to Alice. "So, I understand you're from Paris?"</p><p>"Yes." Alice smiled. "I lived there before the war."</p><p>Peg grinned. "I've only seen pictures. I've never been to Europe. Though I'm in no rush now," she added. "Given the war and all."</p><p>Blanche agreed with her. But Lewis and Alice just exchanged brief glances. They heard Doris shout something from the front doors about running out somewhere, but soon turned back to Blanche and Peg's chat.</p><p>"So, are you two thinking about moving out here?" Peg asked, turning back to them. "BJ and I have had our eye on this plot of land in Mill Valley. But it doesn't look to be going up for sale any time soon."</p><p>Blanche smiled. "Peggy, you have to wait for it. It's the perfect spot."</p><p>"I know. We will," she said. "But you two?"</p><p>Alice turned to Lewis. He shrugged and answered for them. "Not at the moment. I'm still working at our company outside New York City."</p><p>"So East Coast it is for us," Alice agreed.</p><p>Blanche frowned. She circled the rim of her glass with her finger, not responding. The prospect clearly didn't sit well with her, that Lewis would stay there for the foreseeable future. Alice wondered how many times she'd begged Lewis in her letters for them to move out West. She'd asked Alice only once.</p><p>"No accounting for taste," Blanche murmured. But then she just shrugged. "Once we eat lunch, we should walk around the city. Alice needs to see the sights."</p><p>They all agreed. Peg told them she had until about five, at which point she needed to meet BJ in Sausalito. They'd planned a date night.</p><p>Blanche and Peg helped make lunch when Doris returned, and soon all five sat eating. They kept conversation away from Stanhope, though Doris asked for updates on how both Alice and Lewis were doing at the company. Neither mentioned the incident at the party. They kept it civil, doing their best not to slander the former husband of Doris Ryer Nixon.</p><p>Doris spoke about her newest philanthropic efforts, about the mingling and networking she'd been doing for the past three months. At her story, Blanche's smile dropped, and she picked at her food. Alice wondered why.</p><p>"Mrs. Nixon you never fail to amaze me," Peg told her. "I can only hope to be half the woman you are."</p><p>She smiled. "Don't worry, Peggy. I'm sure you and your fiance will do plenty of good. He's going to be a surgeon after all."</p><p>"The best surgeon," Blanche agreed. And then she grinned. "And someday, you'll be the best mother."</p><p>Peg laughed. "I can only hope."</p><p>It felt nice to sit there and listen to them talk. Lewis carried on the conversation, asking about various names that Alice had only heard of in stories of the West Coast. Ruth's brother came up once. He still worked for Doris.</p><p>"And when are you two going to start a family?" Doris asked. She pointed at Alice. "You two aren't kids anymore."</p><p>Alice's drink froze against her lips at the question. She and Lewis made eye contact. She put down her drink. Her hand shook as she let go. "Well. That's why we're here, actually."</p><p>"No." Blanche put her own drink down and then laughed. "You're pregnant?"</p><p>She smiled. "Yes."</p><p>Peg clapped and Blanche stood up from her chair, sending it flying backwards. "Oh my god." She grabbed Alice in a hug. "I can't believe it!" Then she crashed into Lewis. "You bastard! Not telling me!"</p><p>"Congratulations," Doris said. She grabbed her son in a hug first, a few tears on her cheeks, and then turned to Alice. "Congratulations," she said again.</p><p>"Thank you," Alice said.</p><p>"When's the baby due?" Peg asked, offering her a quick hug. "When did you find out?"</p><p>"Due in February," Lewis told them. He started grinning. "Don't be jealous it took so long to tell you. We haven't told anyone, not even Dick."</p><p>Alice had been keeping it to herself, and Lewis agreed. It had taken some time to adjust to the news. When she'd found out, she'd nearly had a heart attack. Not that she didn't want a child; Alice had always wanted to be a mother. Or she had, back before the war.</p><p>But then she'd gone to war. Every time she thought about bringing a little life into the world, she panicked. She didn't want the baby face the same hatred that she had, the same twisted life. She wanted the baby to be happy, to be free, to know a life without despair. And she wasn't sure she could do that. She felt too broken herself.</p><p>She knew Lewis had thought the same. She hadn't told him at first. She'd given herself a few days to process it, to wonder how to break the news. He'd been as shocked as she had. It wasn't like they'd been trying to avoid having a child. But now that it was here, it was real... it was terrifying.</p><p>Coming to San Francisco to see Blanche had been their way of trying to figure out how to tell their friends. If they could tell his mother and sister, they could tell Dick and Harry and Ron and George. Kitty was pregnant too, they'd recently found out. Just a week before, Kitty and Harry had called them up with the news.</p><p>It was then that Alice knew they needed to tell their friends. So after San Francisco, after they'd figured out what exactly to do, she intended to call George, and Harry, and Bill. They planned on telling Dick right away in person. And then they'd figured out the next step.</p><p>Alice grabbed Lewis' hand as they all stood out on the sidewalk. It wasn't a far walk to more bustling streets. Blanche still grinned from ear to ear, walking next to Peg a few feet in front of them.</p><p>"Ready?" Alice asked him.</p><p>He nodded. Then he smirked, gesturing ahead. "After you, Mommy."</p><p>Mommy. The term made her anxiety skyrocket. But she had better get used to it. In about seven months, that would be her new name.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter Twenty-One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <strong>August 5, 1946</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>Dear Gene,</em>
</p>
<p>I'm sorry that it's been nearly a month since I wrote you last. I'm so glad that you're doing well. We missed you at the reunion at the end of May. But I know that you wish you could've been there. I ate an extra chocolate bar just for you.</p>
<p>Last month, Lewis and I spent a couple of weeks in San Francisco. That's why it took so long for me to reply. We were visiting his mother and sister, Blanche. We went out there to tell them some news.</p>
<p>I wanted to call you, but I know you're busy and I'm not sure I have the energy to say this over the phone again. I know if anyone can understand that, it's you. You never made me talk about anything.</p>
<p>I'm pregnant. Writing it out makes it seem so real. It is real. I'm expecting a child in February. I can't believe it, honestly. Six months from now, I'll have a baby. Saying it out loud still scares me, if I'm being honest.</p>
<p>I called George about it. I couldn't see him of course, but I think he was crying at one point. He denied it, of course. So if you do see George at any point, don't tell him I said that. I called Bill, too. He and Frannie both have all sorts of pointers for us.</p>
<p>Harry and Kitty are expecting as well. Kitty screamed over the phone when I told her. She's all sorts of excited. I am too! I'm just a bit more nervous than she is, I suppose.</p>
<p>I wrote to you about the party where Stanhope tried to get to me, didn't I? He tried it again with another girl, according to Ruth. She's about ten seconds away from shooting him, I'd say. Luckily she doesn't have a gun. I wouldn't put it past her. Not sure I'd stop her, either.</p>
<p>We saw some unexpected faces at the reunion! Malarkey showed up. He had a good time, I think. I know I did, getting to spend time with him. Joe Toye was there too, and Smokey. Gene, Smokey looks fantastic. Rest easy about him. I know you took it hard, when he lost movement. But he's good.</p>
<p>I hope we can see you at a reunion at some point. I know it's hard to travel since you're working. Maybe I can come visit. Though with this new little Nixon on the way, I don't know. I hope I can.</p>
<p>I'll try to place a call to you soon.</p>
<p>With love,</p>
<p>Alice Nixon</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>September 18, 1946</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>Dear Joe,</em>
</p>
<p>I hope this letter finds you. I don't know whether you're not getting these, and that's why you don't respond, or if other circumstances have gotten in the way. Whatever the reason, I hope one of these days that this gets to you if you're still out there in San Francisco (we were there earlier this year! Wish I could've found you).</p>
<p>A lot has happened since I wrote you last. I finally married Lewis Nixon. I'm sure you're not surprised. We decided to elope, to avoid all the drama that comes with his family name. Then we spent some time in England with Millie. Part of me wishes we could've gotten to France, seen the Cote d'Azur. But I'm not sure I can do that. Not now, at least.</p>
<p>When you write, please let me know if you found that Jewish girl who wants lots of kids that you always talked about. I'm sure she's out there, if you haven't found her already. The other big news is that Nix and I are expecting. The baby is due in February. I hope to hear from you by then. If not, that's okay. I'm sure there's a reason.</p>
<p>Until then, best of luck.</p>
<p>Sincerely,</p>
<p>Alice Nixon</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>October 8, 1946</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>Dear Harry,</em>
</p>
<p>I thought about calling you with this, but I figured writing it would be easier. I'm not sure how to say it. So I guess I'll just ask. Are you afraid of being a parent?</p>
<p>Every time I hear from Kitty, she's so excited. Sometimes a bit nervous, a bit more talkative than usual. But she never really sounds scared. I'll go right out and say it, I suppose. I'm really scared, Harry.</p>
<p>I've talked to Lewis about it. He's nervous too. Neither of us know how to care for a child. I'm a mess of a person. Lew's gotten his drinking more under control, and I've been working at my smoking. But we don't know how to be parents.</p>
<p>I don't know how I'm going to be able to even hold an infant. Whenever I think about it, I just think of all the blood on my hands. Frannie tried to offer me Eugene again at the reunion. I couldn't. I couldn't hold something so pure.</p>
<p>How can I hold my old child? I guess I decided to ask you about this because you're one of the more sane people I know. The only other person I know with a kid is Bill Guarnere and he's not exactly who I would put up as a paragon of good decision making.</p>
<p>Am I insane? To be worried like this?</p>
<p>With love,</p>
<p>Alice Nixon</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>November 2, 1946</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>Dear Tab,</em>
</p>
<p>I know you won't respond to this. That's alright. Lieb has been the same way. I don't blame any of you for cutting yourselves from Easy Company. It is painful, sometimes, to hear from the people that we fought beside knowing we can never go back to what it was like in the beginning. No one came home unchanged. And I understand that leaving it behind can be the best thing.</p>
<p>That's what I did with the Resistance in Europe. I've only spoken to my friends in Paris a handful of times since then. But I suppose I still hope you read this, even though you don't reply.</p>
<p>Last letter I told you about how Lew and I are expecting. It's been nerve-racking. But it's going well, though it isn't fun I can tell you that much. If you ever have a wife and she has kids, be nice to her. Otherwise, I don't care if I never hear back from you, I will track you down anyways and slap you for it.</p>
<p>If you come to a reunion someday, maybe you can still get your dance. Not sure Lew would be too happy about that, though. He listens to me though. I'd make sure you get one.</p>
<p>Till I write you next,</p>
<p>Alice Nixon</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter Twenty-Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>November 20, 1946</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Dear Don,</p><p>I've been doing some reflection since your last letter. You talked about your difficulty reaching out to Faye, and I figured, maybe it would be good for us to think about better times. I've been doing that a lot. Thinking about what I used to want, before the war.</p><p>Do you remember that time in Aldbourne after D-Day, when Harry, George, Buck, and Bill stole that dart board? I yelled at them for five minutes straight, I swear. Bill and George just laughed at me. At least Harry had the decency to look a little sheepish.</p><p>Children. That's what George and Bill are. Absolute children. Even now, when George is in a stable relationship and Bill's got a son. I only hope that I can raise my child to be a bit more sane than them.</p><p>Remember when you insulted me for being a girl on the first day we met. It still makes me laugh, remembering your faces when you realized I was awake. It really was hilarious. Of course at the time, I already didn't like that I had to work with all of you. But now it just reminds me of how far we've come.</p><p>I grew up wanting to be a mother. I had this image in my mind, in those days in Hamburg and Paris, of me sitting at a piano while a little white cat wearing a pink bow slept on top, a husband at the table with a newspaper and a daughter next to me just trying to reach the keys. I think I still want that.</p><p>I do still want that. I just don't know if I can have it.</p><p>But we have to try, right? That's what we have to do. We have to try for those who can't. We don't move on, but we do move forward with their love at our sides. That's what I'm learning every day.</p><p>I'm still scared out of my mind though.</p><p>With love,</p><p>Alice Nixon</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>December 9, 1946</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Dear Ron,</p><p>I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I talked to you last. Not going to work was boring, but now I'm just glad I don't have to do anything during the day. I swear that being pregnant is more painful on my body than all the parachute gear I had to wear. It is terrible.</p><p>I'm looking forward to when this child is no longer in me. For a long time, I was worried about being ready. I still am, to be honest. I'm not sure how I'm going to hold him or her in my hands without remembering the blood I spilled. I'm not sure I can make some good any more.</p><p>That's why I stopped my art. At least Caravaggio's darkness had a purpose, to draw attention to the light. The things I painted are just darkness. There's a group here in New York that reminds me of my art, though they are brighter. Pollock and Rothko, among others. Rothko reminds me a bit of Caspar David Friedrich. Marc's middle name is Caspar.</p><p>These days I can't really sit at the piano. My back hurts too much. But it has made me think a lot about what I want. I keep hearing about the "return to normalcy" when I go out. I don't want a return to normalcy. My normalcy has always changed. I want stability.</p><p>You probably think I'm crazy. I know you're enjoying time off. Hopefully we have a while before the next time the army will be called to active duty. But I don't think you'll ever stay in one place. I want that, though, Ron. I want a home.</p><p>Maybe I'll get that, with this child. Maybe.</p><p>Say hello to your sisters for me. I enjoyed the picture you sent recently of your nephews! Send another when you can. Hopefully I can send one back to you of the newest Nixon when he or she arrives.</p><p>With love,</p><p>Alice Nixon</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>January 19, 1947</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Dear George,</p><p>Hope you and Del are doing well! I wanted to put this message into a letter as opposed to over the phone because it feels like something that needs to be written. There's power in having something in writing. That's something I've learned since realizing I have no link to my life before the Airborne that is physical. Nothing except the beret that I keep in my dresser, locked away.</p><p>I've had a lot of time to think while sitting at home with this baby. A lot of reflection. And I know I said it before, but I never wrote it. I wanted to thank you.</p><p>You didn't have to talk to me on that train. You could've ignored me. Now I know you've told me many times it was because I was pretty and spoke in a French accent and I have no doubt all that is very true. I know you enough to know that's definitely part of it.</p><p>But whatever the reason you sat down, you stayed there because I was tired and didn't want to sleep when I was alone on a train. And I think that says a lot. It's one thing to see something or someone interesting and check it out, to be curious. It's another thing to stay when the curiosity has been satisfied.</p><p>And you did. Always.</p><p>I never thanked you for that night in Austria when you defied my direct order to stand in front of my gun. I could've shot you. Ron's told me since that he was still in the hallway, and could see what happened. He wasn't going to stop me. But he told me he was glad you did.</p><p>I am too. I wasn't then, not really. I wanted that man dead, and I wanted to do it. But I am grateful now.</p><p>I've been trying to wrap my head around how I'm supposed to hold a child. I keep thinking about how many lives I've taken since 1940. Too many too count. But I never took one off the battlefield if it wasn't in self-defense. And that's only possible because you stepped in front of that gun.</p><p>I'll be able to hold my baby a little easier knowing that, I think.</p><p>Lewis says I have to pick a Godparent. Blanche is the godmother. Would you be the godfather? I can't think of anyone else who I would rather choose.</p><p>With love,</p><p>Alice Nixon</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter Twenty-Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>February 19, 1947</strong>
</p><hr/><p>In her entire life, Alice had never seen anything so beautiful. The green slopes of the Alps, covered in wildflowers and evergreen trees, could not compare. The sight of town lights from the Eagle's Nest could not compare. The Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, and Statue of Liberty, even the paintings of Caravaggio and Friedrich and Raphael could not compare to the pureness of the little girl that now lay in her arms.</p><p>This girl, this child, this product of her and Lewis Nixon was not only beautiful. Her face seemed to radiate. She had never seen anything like it. This child, this little girl who looked up at her with eyes the color of slate blue, was good.</p><p>And Alice had created her.</p><p>Even as she smiled down at the infant swaddled in her arms, Alice cried. She didn't want to let go. She would never let go of this little girl, the little being that she had made with Lewis Nixon. Those blue eyes, they no longer reminded Alice of Hitler's lie. Nothing about this tiny being could be touched by that lie of Aryan perfection.</p><p>Alice had never seen perfection. But that face, pale with blushing cheeks, the slightest wisps of blonde hair framing her blue eyes and little nose... that was perfection.</p><p>The door opened. She didn't want to look away. She wanted to stare down at the one good thing she'd made. The one thing that wasn't touched by the blood she'd spilled, the lives she'd taken, the faces she'd lost. But she did. And at the sight of Lewis Nixon standing there in silence, watching as the Alice held the girl they'd created, Alice started crying again through a smile that never faded.</p><p>"She's perfect," Alice choked out.</p><p>The nurse took her. Alice didn't want to let go. She didn't want to let the tiny, perfect being she'd made out of her arms. But she did. And when she saw Lewis holding her, she relaxed. He'd made that too. He'd made that little person with her.</p><p>Lewis didn't turn from the girl's face. "She's beautiful."</p><p>"Do you have a name?" the nurse asked. In her hands she held a clipboard, ready to take down the personal information that they had to pick.</p><p>He turned to Alice. She knew the answer. They'd agreed on the name already, if she was a girl. It hadn't been hard to decide on. There had only ever been one choice for a first name, and Lewis had provided the middle.</p><p>"Bernadette Rose," Alice said.</p><p>Ettie, for short. Tears filled her eyes again, thinking of her sister. As they placed Ettie back in her arms, sleeping in the wrap she'd been given by the nurses, Alice held her to her chest. Bernadette Rose Nixon. The one thing Alice had made that was pure. She would never let go.</p><p>"She's perfect," Alice repeated. Then she looked up at Lewis. "She's good, Lew."</p><p>"Just like her mom." His voice caught for a moment as he looked from Ettie to Alice.</p><p>Alice didn't argue. She just smiled through her tears at the man who she'd fallen in love with in 1943, married in 1946, and created a tiny, perfect girl with in 1947. Though she knew there were many nights ahead where she'd wish they were still doing a duet, Alice looked down and realized that would never be the case for long.</p><p>She had done more than find a home. She had created it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <strong>November 15, 1955</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Ettie looked at the casket. Black against the green grass and blue skies of San Francisco, she watched as the cemetery workers lowered it into the black hole that would swallow it forever. She gripped her mother's hand. Tears sprung into her eyes.</p><p>She hated crying. Mom could cry and still look beautiful. Ettie had never been able to learn how to do that. Where her mom had brilliant blue eyes framed by rosy cheeks, Ettie had brown ones like her father. She'd seen pictures from when she was a baby; Ettie missed the dark blue ones she'd been born with.</p><p>Even though she knew having blue eyes wouldn't make her crying any prettier, sometimes she liked the blame it on having brown eyes.</p><p>Aunt Blanche had always corrected her. But now Aunt Blanche was gone.</p><p>She'd heard Uncle Harry and her dad talking. Aunt Blanche had killed herself. Mom had been in the house at the time. Mom had found her.</p><p>They'd not let Ettie see Aunt Blanche until the wake. Noelle didn't understand. She was too little. Aunt Kitty and Uncle Harry had flown out to San Francisco to help, and so Noe spent most of her time with little Diana. But Ettie had no interest in staying with Kevin. Like most boys their age, he was rude.</p><p>Ettie wasn't stupid. She was the smartest one in her class, the best behaved. She had plans. Big plans. She was going to attend Yale like Dad. Never mind that Yale didn't let girls go there. She would change that.</p><p>Ettie wasn't stupid, so she could tell how sad Mom and Dad were. Of course they were sad. But Mom hadn't eaten much since they'd found Aunt Blanche a couple of weeks ago, and she kept smoking all the time. Dad had been drinking.</p><p>When Uncle Harry and Aunt Kitty had shown up, Ettie had been able to breathe again. She liked them. But she didn't want them to see her crying herself to sleep at night knowing that Aunt Blanche was gone.</p><p>But as much as it hurt that Aunt Blanche was gone, what hurt more was knowing that she'd been sad enough to end her own life. They'd not been enough. Ettie hadn't been enough.</p><p>Dad said it wasn't their fault. So did Mom, but Ettie wasn't so sure either of her parents believed that. Ettie couldn't.</p><p>The black hole swallowed the casket. They moved closer, Ettie not ready to let go of the rose in her hand that they'd been given to drop in the hole with the casket. She didn't want to say goodbye.</p><p>She couldn't say goodbye.</p><p>Ettie couldn't stop her tears. Not as she watched her Dad help Noe drop her flower. Not as Dad dropped his. Not as it came to her mom. And not as she took her spot at the edge of the hole that held her favorite person in the whole world.</p><p>She couldn't say goodbye.</p><p>She didn't want to.</p><p>Tears blurred her vision until the black hole and the black box became one gaping void of emptiness. She couldn't say it. So she decided not to.</p><p>Instead, Ettie scrunched her face and willed away the tears. She straightened herself in the dress as black as the void below her. She held out the rose.</p><p>Ettie dropped it. But she didn't say goodbye. She wouldn't say goodbye. Instead, she closed her eyes and made a wish, like the ones she always made on her birthday cake. But this time the wish formed a promise.</p><p>Ettie would go to Yale.</p><p>She would graduate at the top of her class.</p><p>She would be a good person.</p><p>But above all, Ettie was going to find out why Aunt Blanche had killed herself, to make sure no one ever felt the need to do the same.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Finale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is pure fanservice to a group of my readers and friends on discord who latched on to the line in A Soldier of No Importance where I mentioned Speirs knew how to ice skate. For every single bit of content I've put up since then, they've asked for #IceSkatingRon. I gave them a bit in the Humanity of the Broken epilogue, and I'm here with a little part two gift for them.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>February 6, 1957</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Uncle Ron, what's that again?"</p>
<p>"That's a puck, Noë."</p>
<p>"I like the yellow team."</p>
<p>"That's my team, so you picked well."</p>
<p>"The bear team?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. The Bruins."</p>
<p>"I'm cold."</p>
<p>"Well, they have to keep it cold for the ice."</p>
<p>"I'm hungry."</p>
<p>"We can get snacks later."</p>
<p>"I want them now."</p>
<p>"Noëlle, you just had lunch."</p>
<p>"But I want snacks."</p>
<p>"Fine."</p>
<p>"I'm gonna play hockey someday."</p>
<p>"Sure."</p>
<p>"Ettie says she's goin to Yale."</p>
<p>"And I bet she will."</p>
<p>"Well, I'm gonna play hockey."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>"I'm going to be in a band too."</p>
<p>"At the same time?"</p>
<p>"Yep."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>"Mommy said you're leaving the country."</p>
<p>"I am."</p>
<p>"When are you coming back?"</p>
<p>"I don't know."</p>
<p>"Well, you should come back soon."</p>
<p>"I'll try."</p>
<p>"Mommy says you're a hero."</p>
<p>"So is she."</p>
<p>"I know. She's my mom."</p>
<p>"Your dad is too, but don't tell him I said that."</p>
<p>"I won't."</p>
<p>"Good."</p>
<p>"Yep. Uncle Ron?"</p>
<p>"What is it?"</p>
<p>"I'm cold."</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>FIN</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A special thank you to</p>
<p>The OHANA Discord. Ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten. Happy two year anniversary on discord, and the many more years on other platforms.</p>
<p>SteffiAm for her German translations throughout the series</p>
<p>JunoJelli for her endless historical archive research assistance</p>
<p>Hufflepuffturtle for being the best audience ever for my story planning</p>
<p>Trashgoddess600 and PilindieltheElf for starting a damn movement</p>
<p>Jamie506101 for her endless support on all platforms</p>
<p>AdamantiumDragonfly for being my partner-in-crime</p>
<p>Nightwraith17, jcdwriter, Ellowyne, and Autumn_sunfire, the four of you are the best facebook chat I could ever ask for.</p>
<p>papercinders and Historical_Fangirl, for the incredibly heartfelt and thorough reviews you left on the duology. Those are comments I go back to when I need a pick-me-up. Your time is appreciated more than you know! And to everyone here who commented, read, subscribed. You're amazing.</p>
<p>Took nearly a year, but we're done, friends. December 5, 2019 - November 6, 2020. I'll still take one-shot prompts on Tumblr. But for now, I'm dedicating all my time to Under the Banner, my other BoB OFC fic. Thanks for coming along for the ride.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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